Carry My Baby
by Supervillegirl
Summary: MPREG! A strange woman blesses the brothers with a life they never expected nor saw coming.
1. Chapter 1

Carry My Baby

Set during 2.05 "Simon Said"

_Cancer…It can't be…_

Stephanie Collins stared at the letter the hospital had sent her. It couldn't be cancer. It just couldn't be. Not after her husband died two weeks ago. Not after finding out she was a month pregnant with her first child. It just wasn't fair. The doctors said the cancer was too far along and chemotherapy was useless at this point. Was it her fault that she and her husband hadn't had enough money for doctor's visits? Now…she had no hope…she only had a couple months.

Stephanie placed a hand over her abdomen. I can't let my baby die. After everything that's happened in this family…can't one thing go right?

_There has to be a way to save my baby._

Stephanie pulled her grandmother's old spell book from the shelf. She'd never believed in any of her grandmother's crap, but, hey, what better time to try? Stephanie pulled open the book, gazing through it until a certain page grabbed her attention. It was titled: _To save an unborn child._

The page was divided into sections based on what the reader needed. Stephanie read the section titles: _If the baby is sick, if the mother has fallen, if the mother is dying, if the baby—wait! What was that last one?_

Stephanie read through the paragraph for the ritual to perform if the mother is dying.

_If the mother will die before the baby is born, the spell will choose a surrogate—someone full of innocence, love and purity of soul—to carry the child. Once the incantation is complete, signs will appear to the mother, guiding her to the one chosen as a surrogate. When the mother sees the surrogate, she will see another sign. Upon physical contact, the baby will be transferred from the mother to the surrogate for the remainder of the pregnancy. If the surrogate is a male, he will be endowed with the necessary female sex organs to ensure carrying and delivering of the baby._

_This is it!_ Stephanie thought. _This is the way I can save my baby._

She pulled some candles out of her grandmother's trunk, lighting them. She cut her hand with a knife, and used the blood to draw a symbol on the floor. She chanted in Latin, closing her eyes as she finished. She kept her eyes closed, scared to open them. After a moment, she heard a faint flop on her doorstep. She walked to the door and opened it, finding a magazine on the doormat.

Stephanie picked the magazine up and looked at it. It was a copy of _Fit Pregnancy_. Where the customer's address was supposed to be was a blank white square with just a city and state: Guthrie, Oklahoma.

Stephanie smiled. _It's telling me where to go._

Guthrie was only a two hour drive. She could make it there tonight. It was decided: her baby's savior was in Guthrie.

* * *

Stephanie pulled onto the main road in Guthrie, searching for a motel. She checked in and went to sleep for the night. She woke up to a knock on the door. She opened it to find the man who checked her in standing there.

"Can I help you?" Stephanie asked.

"Yes, I found a pamphlet by the door," the man said. "I think you dropped it when you checked in last night."

"Okay, thank you," said Stephanie. She accepted the pamphlet and closed the door. It was a pamphlet for Calley Park just outside of Guthrie. _Looks like I'm going to the park today._

* * *

Stephanie sat in the park on a bench, watching children play on a distant playground. She heard a shuffle in the woods and turned to see a deer slowing stalking towards her. It approached her, and she froze, not wanting to scare it away. It came straight up to her, lowering its head. Stephanie put her hand out, accepting something that it was dropping out of its mouth. It turned and walked away. Stephanie looked down at what was it her hand. It was a metal decal you would find on a car. It was a 67 with an apostrophe in front of it.

'_67? What do they put apostrophes in front of? Years, right? So, '67…_

Stephanie looked down at the decal once again.

_It's a metal decal like they put on cars. It's a car year. It's telling me what car to look for. So…a 1967 what? Wait…the deer. It's telling me the model. The model is a word for a deer. Deer…Gazelle…Oh, wait, an impala? Oh yeah, that's it! A 1967 Impala!_

Stephanie had the answer. Her surrogate owned a 1967 Chevy Impala.

_That shouldn't be too hard. How many people drive a 1967 Impala these days?_

Stephanie got up from the bench, headed for town. Stephanie drove down the main road, searching every car that she saw. Suddenly, a black beauty pulled onto the road in front of her.

_There it is! I don't believe it…_

She followed the Impala as it pulled into an alley. She pulled into a parking lot across from the alley, watching the Impala. Two men sat in the front seat, discussing something. Stephanie couldn't spot a sign anywhere around either of them.

_Which one was it?_

Stephanie watched as one of them climbed out of the Impala, and Stephanie's breath caught. On the lower part of the guy's shirt was a glowing symbol…the same symbol she'd drawn on the floor.

_That's him. He's the one…_

The other man pulled the Impala out and pulled onto the road. Stephanie got out of her car and followed the other man as he entered a store. She waited for a while until he came out again. When his wallet fell out of his pocket, Stephanie saw her opportunity and moved forward.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

Dean and Sam Winchester sat in their black 1967 Chevy Impala, watching Andy Gallagher's van until the guy showed up.

"I'm sorry, I'm starting to like this dude," said Dean. "That van is _sweet_." He looked over at Sam, who seemed upset. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," said Sam.

"Sam, you look like you're sucking on a lemon," Dean told him. "What's going on?"

"This Andrew Gallagher—he's the second guy like this we've found, Dean. The demon came to them when they were kids, now they're killing people."

"We don't know what Andrew Gallagher is, okay? Could be innocent."

"My visions haven't been wrong yet."

"What's your point?"

"My point is, I'm one of them."

"No, you're not."

"Dean, the demon said he had plans for me and children like me."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah, maybe this is his plan, maybe we're all a bunch of psychic freaks! Maybe we're all supposed to be—"

"What, killers?"

"Yeah."

"So, the demon wants you out there, killing with your minds, is that it?" Dean said. Sam just sat there. "Oh, give me a break. You're not a murderer, Sam! You don't have it in your bones!"

"No?" Sam paused. "Last I checked, I kill all kinds of things."

"Well, those things were asking for it. There's a difference."

Dean turned away from Sam, looking worried. A second later, Andy exited an apartment building, dressed in pajamas and a bathrobe.

"Got him," said Sam.

Andy began walking down the street and looked back up at the apartment. An attractive blonde was waving at him from the window. He waved back, and Sam and Dean exchanged a look. As he kept walking, Andy stopped a man in the street. He talked to the man for a minute, and the man handed Andy his cup of coffee before walking away. Andy kept walking and met a man in a suit, shaking his hand.

"That's him," said Sam. "That older guy, that's him. That's the shooter."

"Well, you keep on him, I'll stick with Andy," said Dean. "Go."

Sam got out of the Impala and followed the man across the street. Andy got into his van, and Dean followed him in the Impala. The man's cell phone rang, and he answered it.

"Hello?" the man said. "Yeah?"

While he was talking, Sam saw a Blue Ridge bus drive by. He crossed the street and entered the gun store. Inside, he pulled the alarm and then left. The man was about to enter the store, but then shook his head and decided to walk away.

"Excuse me," came a voice from behind Sam. Sam turned to see a blonde woman holding up a wallet. "I think you dropped this."

Sam felt in his pockets for his wallet, finding it missing. "Thank you so much." Sam reached his hand out, and the woman handed it over. As she laid the wallet in Sam's hands, her fingers brushed against his palm. Sam felt a warm current rush from her fingers and into his hand. He frowned in confusion at her as she smiled at him, tears forming in her eyes. Sam felt a warm sensation pooling in his gut, taking his breath away. He took deep breaths as the woman smiled and walked away. Sam stared after her, but spun around when he heard the Impala's engine approach him.

_Dean was back so soon?_

Sam was stunned when he saw Andy drive by in the Impala. A minute later, the man's cell phone rang again. He answered.

"Hello?" the man said. "Yeah?" His smile faded. "All right." He hung up.

Sam pulled out his cell phone, dialing Dean. "Dean, Andy's got the Impala!"

"I know!" said Dean. "He just sort of asked me for it, and then I let him take it."

"You _what_?" exclaimed Sam.

"He full-on Obi-Wan'd me!" said Dean. "It's mind control, man!"

While Sam was talking to Dean, he turned around and saw the man walking into the street. Suddenly, he got hit by the Blue Ridge bus. Sam watched, shocked. He felt the stress from the whole day hitting him at once. The stolen car…Andy killing people because he was psychic just like Sam…Sam couldn't save the doctor…

Sam felt darkness clouding his mind as he keeled over in a dead faint.

* * *

Sam felt himself being shaken awake.

"Mister, are you okay?"

Sam groaned as he opened his eyes. A teenage girl knelt over him.

"What happened?" asked Sam.

"I don't know," said the girl. "You were standing there, and then you just fainted."

"I what?" asked Sam.

"You fainted." She looked up across the street. "Was it because that guy got hit?"

Sam sat bolt upright, looking over at the accident scene. "No…" He got up, heading for the ambulance that had arrived.

"Hey!"

Sam turned to see Dean running up the sidewalk.

"What happened?" asked Dean. "You didn't answer me on the phone!"

"Uh, yeah, it was nothing," said Sam. He looked over to see the paramedics put the doctor's body in a body bag. He frowned. "I kept him out of the gun store. I thought he was okay. I thought he was past it, at least…I should have stayed with him."

"There was nothing you could do," said Dean. "Someone just really wanted him dead."

"You mean Andy wanted him dead," said Sam.

Dean didn't respond to that. "Come on, let's find my baby."

They set off across the road, searching for the familiar car. They turned a corner, spotting the black Impala.

"Thank God," said Dean as he all but ran to the car, leaning into the driver's window. "I'm sorry, baby. I'll never leave you again." He straightened up, looking at Sam. "At least he left the keys in it."

"Yeah," said Sam. "Real Samaritan, this guy."

"Well, it looks like he can't work his mojo just by twitching his nose. He's gotta use verbal commands."

"The doctor had just gotten off his cell phone when he stepped in front of that bus. Andy must have called him or something."

"I don't know, maybe."

"Beg your pardon?"

"I just don't know if he's our guy, Sam."

"Dean, you had O.J. convicted before he got out of his white Bronco, and you have doubts about _this_?"

"He just doesn't seem like the stone-cold killer type, that's all. And O.J. was guilty!"

"Either way, how are we gonna track this guy down?"

Dean paused. "Not a problem." They climbed into the Impala, taking off across the town until they found Andy's van. "Not exactly an inconspicuous ride. Let's have a look." They got out, and Dean took out a tool from his jacket and opened the door. Inside, the van was completely tricked out, complete with a disco ball, blankets, and posters. "Oh, come on. This is…this is magnificent, that's what this is. Not exactly a serial killer's lair, though. There's no little clown paintings on the walls or scissors stuck in victims' photos." He pointed to a poster. "I like the tiger."

Sam picked up several books. "Hegel? Kant? Wittgenstein? That's some pretty heavy reading, Dean."

Dean picked up a large bong. "Yeah, and, uh…Moby Dick's bong." He grinned. He spotted a dark spot at Sam's hairline. "What happened to you?"

Sam looked at him. "What?"

"You've got a bruise on your head."

Sam touched the bruise, wincing at the slight pain. "Well, I, uh…_fainted._"

"What was that? I didn't catch that."

"I fainted, alright?"

Dean smiled, chuckling. "You fainted?"

"Yes."

"What's the matter, Samantha? A little too much stress on the job?"

"Shut up."

* * *

Dean sat in the driver's seat, eating a burger. "Ugh." He threw the wrapper in the backseat. "You know, one day, I'd love to just sit down and eat something that I didn't have to microwave in a mini-mart."

Sam looked at some paperwork. "What I don't get is the motive. I mean, the doctor was squeaky clean. Why would Andy waste him?"

"If it _is_ Andy."

"Dude, enough."

"What?"

"The doctor was mind-controlled in front of a bus. Andy just happens to have the power of mind control. You do the math."

"I just don't think the guy's got it in him, that's all."

"Well, how the hell would you know? I mean, why are you bending over backwards, defending him?"

"'Cause you're not right about this."

"About Andy?"

Andy appeared at Sam's door. "Hey! You think I haven't seen you two? Why are you following me?"

"Well, we're lawyers," said Sam. "See, a relative of yours has passed away—"

"Tell the truth!" commanded Andy.

"That's what I'm—" started Sam.

"We hunt demons," said Dean calmly. Sam was shocked.

"What?" said Andy.

"Dean?" muttered Sam.

Dean was transfixed. "Demons, spirits—things your worst nightmare wouldn't even touch. Sam here, he's my brother."

"Dean, shut up!" Sam muttered in desperation.

"I'm trying to," Dean told him. He directed his conversation at Andy once again. "He's psychic. Kind of like you. Well, not really like you, but see, he thinks you're a murderer, and he's afraid that he's gonna become one himself, 'cause you're all part of something that's terrible, and I hope to hell that he's wrong, but I'm starting to get a little scared that he might be right." Dean smiled.

"Okay, you know what?" said Andy. "Just leave me alone."

"Okay," said Dean. Andy walked away, and Dean put his head in his hands, ashamed. Sam got out of the car and followed Andy.

"What are you doing?" said Andy. "Look, I said leave me alone!" Sam shook his head. "Get out of here! Just start driving and never stop!"

"Doesn't seem to work on me, Andy," said Sam.

"What?" said Andy.

"You can make people do things, can't you?" said Sam as Dean got out of the car. "You can tell them what to think." Sam waved Dean off, telling him not to come nearer.

Andy laughed. "That's crazy."

"It all started about a year ago, didn't it? After you turned twenty-two. Little stuff at first, then you got better at controlling it."

"How do you know all this?"

"'Cause the same thing happened to me, Andy. My mom died in a fire, too. I have abilities, too. You see, we're connected, you and me."

"You know what, just get out of here, all right?"

"Why'd you tell the doctor to walk in front of a bus?"

Andy was stunned. "What?"

Suddenly, images began flashing in Sam's head. He caught a glimpse of a woman at a gas station. He winced, trying to ignore it.

"Why did you kill him?" asked Sam.

"I didn't!" said Andy.

Sam grimaced again as his vision took over. At the gas station, a woman was filling her tank. Her cell phone rang, and she answered.

"Hello?" said the woman. "Sure. I can do that."

She hung up. She reached inside her car and activated the lighter. She took the pump out of her car and began pouring gasoline all over her body and hair. A gas station attendant noticed what she was doing.

"Hey!" said the attendant. "Lady, what are you doing?!"

"It's gonna be okay," said the woman. She took the lighter from her car and touched it to her jacket. Her entire body burst into flames. She got down on her knees as she burned.

In the junkyard, Sam came out of his vision, clearly in pain. He clutched his head, turning away from Andy. Dean ran over to Sam and held him as he collapsed to the ground.

"Sam!" said Dean. "What is it?"

"I didn't do anything to him," said Andy.

Sam was about to tell Dean about the vision when a new sensation joined the raging migraine: nausea. Sam frowned in confusion. He's never gotten sick to his stomach with his other visions. He tried to clamp down on nausea, but his stomach rolled and Sam bent over, emptying his stomach on the pavement.

"Whoa, Sam!" said Dean. "You okay? What's wrong?"

Sam wiped his mouth as the nausea settled back down. "I'm okay…I'm okay. I'll be fine."

"What's wrong with him?" asked Andy.

Sam ignored him, breathing heavily. This was important. "A woman…a woman burning alive."

"What else you get?" asked Dean.

"A gas station—a woman's gonna kill herself," said Sam.

"What does he mean, 'going to'?" asked Andy. "What is he—"

"Shut up," said Dean.

"She gets triggered by a call on her cell," said Sam.

"When?" asked Dean. He helped Sam up. Sam's legs still felt a little shaky, so he leaned on Dean for support.

"I don't know," said Sam. "But as long as we keep our eyes on this son of a bitch, he can't hurt her."

"I didn't hurt anybody!" said Andy.

"Yeah, not yet," said Sam. He heard a siren, and turned to see a fire truck drive by. He looked at Dean. "Go." Dean headed for the Impala, and Andy moved forward. "No, not you. You're staying here with me."

Sam sat Andy down on a trailer, watching him.

_What was that about? I never get sick from the visions._

He was interrupted as his cell phone rang.

"Hey, it's me," said Dean. "She's dead. Burned up, just like you said."

Sam glanced at Andy. "When?"

"Minutes before I got here," said Dean. "I mean, the smell hasn't even cleared. What's up with your visions, man? This wasn't even a head start."

"I don't know, all right? I can't control 'em. I don't know what the hell is going on."

"Listen, you were with Andy when this whole thing went down, so it can't be him. It's gotta be somebody else doing this."

"That doesn't make any sense."

"What else is new? I'll dig around here, see what else I can find."

Sam hung up and walked over to Andy, explaining everything.

"You get these premonitions about people about to die?" asked Andy. Sam nodded. "That's impossible."

"A lot of people would say the same thing about what you do," Sam said.

"Death visions?" asked Andy.

"Yeah."

"Dude, that sucks. When I got my mind thing, it was like a gift, you know? It was like I won the lotto."

"But you still live in a van. I don't get it. I mean, you could have anything you ever wanted."

"I've got everything I need."

Sam paused. "So, you're really not a killer, huh?"

Andy laughed. "That's what I've been trying to tell you."

"That's good. It means there's hope for both of us."

Dean pulled up and got out of the Impala. "Victim's name was Holly Beckett—forty-one, single."

Sam turned to Andy. "Who is she?"

"Never heard of her," said Andy.

"I called Ash on the way over here, he came up with a little something," said Dean. "Apparently, Holly Beckett gave birth when she was eighteen years old, back in 1983. Same day you were born, Andy."

"Andy, were you adopted?" asked Sam.

"Well, yeah," said Andy.

"You were?" said Dean. "And you neglected to mention that?"

"It never really came up," said Andy. "I mean, I never knew my birth parents. And, like you said, my adopted mom died when I was a baby. Do you think this Holly woman could actually be—"

"I don't know," said Dean. "I tried to get a copy of the birth records, but they're hard copy only. Sealed in the county office."

"Well, screw that," said Andy.

* * *

Dean and Sam looked over paperwork while Andy talked to an officer in the county office.

"I probably shouldn't have let you kids in here," said the officer.

"No, it'll all be fine, alright?" said Andy. "Just go get a cup of coffee, alright? These aren't the droids you're looking for." The officer left.

Dean smiled. "Awesome."

"Got it," said Sam.

"Yeah?" asked Dean.

"Yeah," said Sam. "Andy, it's true. Holly Beckett was your birth mother."

Andy was stunned. "Does anyone have a Vicodin?"

"Dr. Jennings was her doctor, too," said Sam. "I mean, he oversaw the adoption. You have a solid connection to both of them."

"Yeah, but I didn't kill 'em," said Andy.

"We believe you," said Dean.

"Yeah," said Sam.

"But, uh…who did?" asked Dean.

"I think I've got a pretty good guess." Sam paused. "Holly Beckett gave birth to twins."

Andy plopped down into a chair as Dean took up a position at a computer.

"I have an evil twin," Andy muttered.

"Holly put you and your brother up for adoption," said Sam. "You went to the Gallagher family, obviously. And your brother went to the Weems family from upstate."

"Andy, how you doing?" asked Dean. "Still with us?"

"Um…what was my brother's name?" asked Andy.

"Here…um, Ansem Weems," said Sam. Andy shook his head, showing that he didn't know who that was. "He's got a local address."

"Wait, he lives here?" asked Andy.

"Let's get a look at him," said Dean. "There's a picture coming over from the DMV right now." He took the paperwork from the fax machine and looked at it, shocked. "I hate to kick you while you're freaked." He handed the paper to Andy. "Take a look at that." Andy looked at it, stunned.

Sam peered over Andy's shoulder. "Wait, isn't that the guy that works at the bar?"

"Yeah," Andy muttered. "Webber…I don't believe it. He's been around all this time, and he's my…"

"Come on," said Dean. "Let's go before he hurts anyone else."

The three of them climbed into the Impala, heading for town.

"Alright, Andy," said Sam. "Tell us everything you know about this guy."

"Webber shows up one day…eight months ago, acting like he's my best friend in the world," said Andy. "Kind of weird, like…trying too hard, you know?"

Sam felt the nausea starting again, and he clutched his stomach.

"He must have known you guys were twins," said Dean. "Why did he change his name? Why not just tell you the truth?"

"No clue," said Andy. Sam groaned.

"Sam?" said Dean.

"Pull over, Dean," Sam moaned. Dean pulled the car over as Sam flung the door open. He stumbled to his knees in the grass as Dean ran out of the car. Sam clutched his stomach as he vomited again. He dry heaved as Dean grabbed him by the shoulders.

"Sam?" said Dean. "You okay?"

As the nausea abated, Sam felt another sensation.

_Oh, come on. You've got to be kidding me._

Sam grabbed his head in pain as a vision hit him.

The woman from the bar cried as she stood on a bridge in her nightgown. She approached a very high dam and stepped right to the edge. She jumped, and Sam came out of the vision in unbearable pain.

"Sam?" Dean exclaimed. "Sam! Hey!"

* * *

The Impala pulled up to the dam, and Sam and Dean gathered things from the trunk.

"Dean, you should stay back," said Sam.

"No argument here," said Dean. "I've had my head screwed with enough for one day."

"I'm coming with you," said Andy.

"Andy—" said Sam.

"Look, if it's Tracy out there…then I'm coming," said Andy.

Sam and Andy made their way to the car parked on the dam. Sam approached the driver's side as Andy came to the passenger's side. Sam smashed Ansem's window, holding a gun to him.

"Get out of the car!" Sam yelled. "Now!"

"You really don't wanna do this," said Ansem. Unaffected, Sam punched him. Andy opened Tracy's door.

"Tracy!" said Andy.

"Andy!" Tracy said as she got out.

"Come here!" said Andy. "Come here!"

Tracy hugged him. "I couldn't control myself!" Sam got Ansem out of the car and pinned him to the ground.

"Hey, don't move," said Sam. "Don't move!" Andy placed masking tape over Ansem's mouth and began kicking him. "No! No! I will handle it!"

"I will kill you!" Andy yelled at his twin.

"Let me handle this, alright?" said Sam. "Listen to me!"

While he was holding back Andy, a sharp pain sliced across his back. He fell to the ground, feeling a jolt through his abdomen when he collided with the pavement. He clutched at his stomach, wincing in pain. He couldn't hardly breathe, couldn't hardly think. He couldn't even focus on the situation at hand. He heard a gunshot, and slowly turned on his back to see Ansem on the ground with Andy standing over him with a gun, a shocked look on his face.

Sam stood up, clutching his stomach protectively. Why he felt the need to protect his stomach, he wasn't entirely sure.

* * *

Sam and Dean watched Andy talking with the cops.

"Look at him," said Sam. "He's getting better at it."

Andy came over to them, looking upset. "She won't even look at me."

"Yeah, she's pretty shaken up," said Sam.

"No, it's—this is different," said Andy. "I never used my mind thing on her before…before last night. She's scared of me now."

"Andy, I hate to do this, but…we have to get out of here," said Sam. He handed Andy a piece of paper. "Here, I wrote down my cell. You don't have to be alone in this, all right? If anything comes up, you call me up." They begin walking away.

"What am I supposed to do now?" asked Andy.

"You be good, Andy," said Dean. "Or we'll be back." They walk to the car.

"Looks like I was right," said Sam.

"About what?" asked Dean.

"Andy. He's a killer, after all."

"No, he's a hero. He saved his girlfriend's life, he saved _my_ life."

"Bottom line, last night, he wasted somebody."

"Yeah, but he's not a foaming-at-the-mouth psycho. He was pushed into that."

"Webber was pushed, too, in his own way. Max Miller was pushed. Hell, _I_ was pushed by Jessica's death."

"What's your point, Sam?"

"Right circumstances, everyone's capable of murder. Everyone. Maybe that's what the demon's doing—pushing us, finding ways to break us."

"Sam, we don't know what the demon wants, okay? Quit worrying about it."

"You know, I heard you before, Dean. When Andy made you tell the truth. You're just as scared of this as I am."

"That was mind control! It's like being Roofie'd, man, that doesn't count."

"What?"

"No, I'm calling a do-over."

"What are you, seven?"

"Doesn't matter. We've just gotta keep doing what we're doing, find that evil son of a bitch, and kill it." Dean's cell phone rang.

"Yeah. I guess."

Dean answered his phone. "Hello? Ellen? What's going on? Yeah, we'll be right there."

He climbed into the Impala as Sam followed him. They were about an hour towards the roadhouse when Dean spoke.

"So, what's up with you?" asked Dean.

"What do you mean?" asked Sam.

"The fainting, the vomiting…something's up," said Dean. "You coming down with something."

"Honestly?" said Sam. He stared at the road for a moment. "I don't know. I don't feel sick, except for the nausea and vomiting. I don't have a fever. I feel perfectly healthy. I have no clue what's happening to me. Maybe it's just part of the psychic thing."

"Psychic thing? Really? That's what you're gonna go with?"

"Well, think about it. Ever since last year, my visions get worse and worse every time. Now, maybe it's coupled with physical side effects."

"I hope that's all it is," muttered Dean as they headed for the roadhouse.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

Sam sat on the cold tile floor of the bathroom, hunched over against the tub. He had just spent the last fifteen minutes throwing up into the toilet bowl in front of him. He was thoroughly exhausted. This crazy stomach bug had him in the bathroom every day for the past three weeks.

After Guthrie, they had headed to Philadelphia to help Jo with a case which had gone well. Sam did notice that the smell of ozone that H.H. Holmes' spirit was giving off made his stomach queasy. Then they had headed to Baltimore, which had resulted in an ugly bout with the cops. They had just gotten back from dealing with hellhounds and crossroad demons. Sam didn't know how much more of this crap he could take.

He felt a hand on his shoulder and looked up at a worried and slightly frustrated Dean.

"You okay?" Dean asked. Sam nodded, exhausted. "I'm taking you to the hospital."

Sam's head shot up. "No! What if it's something supernatural?"

Dean huffed in exasperation. "Then we're going to Bobby's."

"Bobby? How can he help?"

"He has a contact that's a doctor who specializes in supernatural cases and hunters."

Sam rolled his eyes. "Fine."

* * *

One day later, Bobby hung up the phone as Sam and Dean sat in his living room.

"He's gonna get you in today at three o'clock," said Bobby. He sat down. "So, you have no clue what's happening?"

"No," said Sam. "At first, I thought it was just my visions getting worse, but I haven't had one in weeks."

"Well, it's two," said Bobby. "You guys better get going."

Sam and Dean stood up, and Sam hesitated. Whatever he was about to be diagnosed with, he knew he was a little scared.

"Bobby?" said Sam. "Would you come with us?"

Bobby smiled. "Of course."

The three of them piled into the Impala and headed for the hospital. Sam was led to one of the rooms, where he changed into scrub pants and a white t-shirt. The doctor came into the room.

"Hey, Sam, I'm Dr. Simons," said the doctor. "Bobby tells me you've been sick for a while? What are your symptoms?"

"Uh…" Sam said, thinking. "Headaches, nausea…I'm throwing up every day multiple times."

"How long has this been going on?"

"Couple weeks."

Dr. Simons thought for a moment. "Lie back. Lift up your shirt."

"Why?" asked Sam as he complied.

"I want to see what's going on in your stomach."

Dr. Simons pulled a machine over, grabbing a bottle of gel. He squirted some on Sam's belly, and held a scanner to his skin, rolling it in the gel. A rapid pulsing sound echoed from the machine.

Sam's head snapped to the doctor. "What is that?"

Dr. Simons stared at the screen. "I don't believe it…"

"Doc," Sam prompted.

Simons looked at Sam. "It's a heartbeat."

"That thing is picking up my heartbeat?" asked Sam._ Since when is it that fast? My heart doesn't feel like it's beating that fast._

"No, no. This wouldn't be able to pick up **your** heartbeat."

"Then what is it?"

"You say you've been feeling off the past few weeks?"

"Yeah, the headaches, nausea and vomiting."

"Well, this would explain why," said Dr. Simons as he turned the screen so Sam could see.

Sam's eyes widened when he spotted the object on the screen. "Is that what I think it is?"

"It is."

Sam stared at the screen, which showed a small, peanut-shaped bundle in the area of his abdomen.

"Oh, my gosh…"

* * *

Dean paced the waiting room, wringing his hands.

_What's wrong with Sammy? Please, don't let it be bad._

"Mr. Singer?"

Dean jumped at his alias, spinning towards the doctor. "What is it? Is he okay?"

"He told me not to tell you," said the doctor. "He wants to do it himself."

Dean's gut clenched. _This cannot be good._

"You can go see him now."

Dean looked at Bobby. "Wait here, okay?"

Bobby nodded, and Dean headed for Sam's room. He slowly opened the door. Sam was lying on his side in the hospital bed, faced away from the door. Dean closed the door and stood staring at his little brother.

"Sammy?" Dean started. Sam gave no reaction. "Did they figure it out?"

Sam let out a huff of breath, almost like a laugh. "Oh, yeah. They figured it out alright." His tone was bitter and sarcastic.

Dean's stomach dropped. "Oh, gosh…What is it?" Sam was silent. "Sammy, please tell me."

"They did an ultrasound," Sam told him.

Dean frowned. _Why would they do an ultrasound? Don't pregnant women get those? What else do they use ultrasounds for? Let's see…_

"I'm pregnant."

_If they need to check the gallbladder or kidneys—wait._

Dean's head shot up, staring at Sam. His jaw dropped open. "What?"

"I'm pregnant, Dean."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," said Dean as he circled the bed to stand where Sam could see him. Sam looked up at his face. "You got knocked up?"

"No," said Sam. Dean looked at him pointedly. "Dean, I haven't—" Sam grimaced and looked at the floor. "Not since Jessica. So, even if I weren't a guy, this technically shouldn't be happening."

Dean stared at him. "You got knocked up?"

Sam glared at him, raising his voice. "Dude, your brother is telling you that he's fucking pregnant, and that's all you can say?!" Sam grabbed his head as a headache ripped through his skull.

Dean rushed forward, putting a hand on Sam's shoulder. "Hey, hey, calm down, Sam. It's gonna be okay. Don't work yourself up. Your body can't handle the stress right now."

Sam glanced at the hand on his shoulder and then up into Dean's face, which was kind of close. "Dude…personal space."

Dean removed his hand and backed up, standing by the bed. "Sorry. So…you're pregnant…"

"The doctor says it's been almost two months," said Sam. "Or, at least the baby's almost two months old. I don't know how long I've been pregnant."

"Well, when did the symptoms start?"

Sam stared at the ceiling, thinking. _Well, the vomiting started while we were in Guthrie. Then there was the fainting episode outside the gun store— _Sam's eyes widened as he froze.

"What?" asked Dean.

"Andy…"

"You're saying Andy told you to be pregnant?"

Sam glared at him. "Okay, first: he wouldn't be able to just tell someone to be pregnant and they suddenly are, and second: the mind control doesn't work on other psychics, remember?"

"Okay, smartass, then what are you talking about?"

"When we were in Guthrie with Andy, there was a woman that returned my wallet that I had dropped just before Dr. Jennings walked in front of the bus. When her fingers touched my palm, there was this…warmth that passed between us, almost like electricity."

"Yeah, I'll bet," Dean smirked.

"Dean, focus," Sam scolded. "When she touched me, I felt something inside me. It was…" Sam struggled to find the words. "It's hard to describe. It was filling. Like…something had been missing and it was finally there. Does that make sense?"

"A little. So, why didn't you tell me about this before?"

Sam stared at him. "Dean, a guy walked in front of a bus. I'm sorry if it slipped my mind."

"Okay, okay, so…this woman put a baby in you." Dean smiled cockily. "Friend of yours?" Sam glared at him again, and Dean's smiled faltered. "Okay, bad timing. Do you remember what she looked like?"

"Yeah, but unless we have a photo to search the police database, we're not gonna have much luck."

"No problem."

"No problem?"

"There was an intersection by the gun store…traffic cam."

Sam smiled. "That could work."

Bobby walked into the room. "Hey, boys."

"Hey, Bobby," said Sam. "Sorry for keeping you out there. You probably want to know what's going on."

"You're pregnant, aren't ya?" stated Bobby bluntly. Sam and Dean stared at him, shocked. "I may be old, but I'm not stupid. I figured it out after the twentieth appointment with the toilet."

"Well, that spares us an awkward conversation," said Sam.

"What are you boys gonna do now?" asked Bobby.

"We're heading back to Guthrie," Dean told him.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four

Dean drove down the highway, headed for Guthrie. Sam sat in the passenger seat, trying to doze, but he kept shifting in his seat. Little aches and twinges kept poking at him, making him very uncomfortable. His long, lanky form was cramped enough in the passenger seat. His back would twinge from his bad posture, and he would turn to the side to relieve it. Then the hip he was putting his weight on would begin to ache from the pressure, and he would shift to his other hip. When that began to ache, he would face forward with his back as straight as his tall torso would allow. When his back became stiff, he would start the whole process over again.

"Would you quit fidgeting?" Dean told him suddenly. "You're making me nervous."

"Well, I'm sorry if I have a baby playing hell with my nervous system here," said Sam. He settled down into the seat, spreading his legs out in front of him as much as he could. After a few minutes, the aches were still absent. "Thank God. Finally, a comfortable position."

After a moment, the reason the aches had subsided became apparent. Sam sat bolt upright in his seat, fumbling for the door handle.

"Sam!" Dean yelled, slamming to a stop on the shoulder of the road.

Sam managed to get the door opened just as his breakfast edged its way into his throat. He collapsed to his knees on the grass, emptying his stomach. As his stomach ran out of contents, he dry heaved, his gut and throat clenching. Someone was bracing him with a hand on his back. Sam focused on that contact, that offer of comfort, to get him through the dry heaves. As he finished, he shifted back on his heels and collapsed against the Impala, sitting on the pavement. A water bottle was shoved in front of him, and Sam gladly accepted it. He took a big mouthful, swishing it around and spitting it to the side.

Sam looked over to see Dean squatting next to him, a worried look on his face. "I'm okay, man. It's normal."

Dean seemed to relax. "As normal as a pregnant man can be, anyway."

"Yeah," said Sam.

He tried to climb to his feet, but his legs didn't seem to want to support his weight. Dean fisted his hands in the front of Sam's jacket and helped pull Sam to his feet. Sam turned and collapsed into the passenger seat. Dean closed his door and came back over to the driver's seat, climbing in and starting the car.

"Take a nap," Dean told him as he started down the highway.

Sam looked at him. "What?"

"You're exhausted, your body is spent," Dean said. "You need rest." Now that Sam thought about it, it was getting harder to keep his eyes open. "Go on. I'll wake you when we get there."

Sam leaned back, hunching down in his seat so he could lay his head on the back of the seat. He closed his eyes, letting the hum of the engine lull him to sleep.

* * *

Sam slowly came back to consciousness, turning his head. Something warm and familiar brushed his cheek, and he opened his eyes, looking down. Dean's leather jacket was draped over his torso, covering his arms. Sam looked up at Dean in the driver's seat.

"What's with this?" asked Sam.

"You looked cold," Dean answered simply. Sam stared at him, shocked. Dean glanced at him, mistaking the look on his face. "Just thought you'd want to be more comfortable. Never mind."

Sam smiled, holding the jacket closer. "Thanks."

Dean glanced at him again before looking back at the road. "Don't mention it."

"Where are we?"

"Just outside of town."

"Guthrie?"

"Bingo."

"Okay, what's our first stop?"

"Local county sheriff to get a look at the traffic camera footage."

"Our cover story?"

"FBI. She's on our most wanted list and we just got a tip that she had been here."

"Okay."

Dean pulled down the main road, parking in front of the sheriff's office. He pulled a box out of the glove compartment, fishing two FBI badges from it. The two of them made their way into the building. A deputy spotted the two of them.

"Can I help you?"

Dean flashed his badge as Sam did the same. "Agent Bannum. This is Agent Freeley. We need to take a look at the local traffic cameras from the past month."

The deputy took in their jeans, boots and cargo jackets. "You're FBI."

"Undercover," Dean explained. "We're tailing a young woman and trying not to tip her off."

"Okay, of course," said the deputy. He led the two brothers halfway down the hall until they came to a door. "Our cameras are monitored in there."

Sam turned to the deputy, his face pale. "Do you have a bathroom?"

"Yes," he answered. "Right down there at the end of the hall."

"Thank you," Sam muttered as he rushed in that direction, trying not to run. The deputy looked at Dean questioningly.

"Bad shrimp last night," Dean told him. "We thought he was over it."

The deputy grimaced in sympathy. "Well, here you go. I hope your partner feels better. Just holler if you need anything else."

"Will do," said Dean as he entered the room. He approached the file cabinet, searching for the records from three weeks ago. By the time he had found it, Sam entered, closing the door. "Feel better?"

"Loads," said Sam. "Got it?"

"Got it," said Dean, holding up the tape. He put it in the VCR as they sat at the consoles. The date and time appeared along the top of a view of the front of the gun store. "What time did we get there?"

"Around ten," answered Sam.

Dean fast-forwarded until ten o'clock. They watched as people walked by, into and out of the gun store. After about five minutes, they saw Sam rushing across the street and entering the gun store. A moment later, he exited the gun store as people began filing out. He slipped his hand out of his jeans pocket, his wallet falling to the ground.

As Sam watched someone off screen—Dr. Jennings, probably—a woman came into view. She reached down and picked up Sam's wallet. She opened her mouth to speak, and Sam turned to face her. She spoke some more, and Sam felt his pockets for the wallet. He smiled and reached his hand out to accept the wallet. As their hands touched, a white flash appeared on the screen and disappeared just as fast.

"Whoa, what the hell?" exclaimed Dean. He backed the tape up and slowed it down.

The woman placed the wallet in Sam's hand. When their hands touched, a white light burst into being in the woman's abdomen. The light traveled up and into her hand, passing over to Sam's hand and traveling down into his abdomen. The light dissipated and Dean put the tape back to normal speed. Sam turned to watch something off screen—Andy driving by in the Impala—as the woman turned, her face facing the camera. Dean froze the image, zoomed in, and printed the picture out.

"So…" said Dean. "Looks like she didn't just give you a baby. She gave you her baby."

"Why would she do that?" frowned Sam.

"Don't know," said Dean as he got up. "But I say, 'Burn, witch, burn.'"

Sam shot up from his seat. "No, Dean, it's—Something doesn't add up here. I think maybe we should just talk to her."

"Are you crazy?" said Dean. "She impregnated you…probably with her demon spawn. And you wanna chat?"

"Dean, please. I don't think we know everything here. Please just go with me on this." He shot a look at Dean, turning on the puppy eyes full-force.

Dean rolled his eyes. "Dammit, fine! We'll do it your way."

* * *

Dean opened the motel room door to find Sam lying in a bed with a pillow against his stomach, watching TV.

"Feeling better?" asked Dean.

"Yeah," said Sam.

They had checked into a motel after the sheriff's office yesterday, but Sam had felt like crap today. Dean told him to stay there while he ran a police search on the photo.

"Good news," said Dean as he sat on the other bed, facing his brother. "I got a hit."

"Yeah?" said Sam.

"Her name's Stephanie Collins. She lives in Winfield, Kansas. It's a two hour drive from here."

"Anything else?"

"Nope, just an address."

"Then what are we waiting for?"


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Five

Dean pulled up outside the house. It was a small, slightly worn one-story that was in desperate need of care. Dean climbed out of the car and headed for the trunk. Sensing his intentions, Sam got out also and met Dean at the trunk, where he was rooting through the weapons cash.

"No," said Sam, crossing his arms.

"No, what?" said Dean.

"You are not bringing a gun into that house," Sam told him.

"And I'm not going in there naked," Dean told him. "She's already got her sights set on you. I'm not letting her get another chance."

"No," said Sam. "Look, I've got a feeling about this. I don't think she's evil. Just trust me on this one, okay?"

"Sam—"

"Dean, please," Sam pleaded.

Dean hesitated, rolled his eyes, and threw his .45 back into the trunk, closing it. The two of them made their way to the front door. Sam took a deep breath and knocked on the door. They waited for a moment before the door was opened. The woman they presumed was Stephanie locked her gaze on Sam and froze.

"Hey," said Dean. "I believe we have something that—"

He was cut off as Stephanie launched herself at Sam, wrapping her arms around him. Sam stood there in shock as she hugged him. He slowly raised his arms and awkwardly patted her on the back.

Stephanie released him, tears in her eyes. "Thank you. Thank you so much. Please, come in." She stepped back to let them in.

Sam and Dean looked at each other, surprised. Sam shrugged and entered, with Dean following close behind. Stephanie led them to the living room, gesturing at the couch. The brothers sat down there as she sat in the armchair facing them.

"I'm Sam Winchester, and this is my brother Dean. There's—"

"You wanna tell us why you felt the need to impregnate my brother, witch?" Dean interrupted, glaring at Stephanie.

"Oh, I'm not a witch," said Stephanie. "I mean, my grandmother was, but I never believed in all that crap until…well…" She gestured at Sam's belly.

"Question still stands," spat Dean.

Stephanie took a deep breath. "Because I don't want my baby to die."

Sam frowned. "What?"

Stephanie got up and grabbed a book from her shelves. She found a page, placed it in front of them and pointed out a passage. "Here."

Sam leaned over and began reading.

_To save an unborn child if the mother is dying._

_Dying?_ Sam thought, shocked.

_If the mother will die before the baby is born, the spell will choose a surrogate—someone full of innocence, love and purity of soul—to carry the child._

_Innocence? Love? Purity of soul? _Sam thought. _That's me?_

_Once the incantation is complete, signs will appear to the mother, guiding her to the one chosen as a surrogate. When the mother sees the surrogate, she will see another sign. Upon physical contact, the baby will be transferred from the mother to the surrogate for the remainder of the pregnancy._

_Remainder of the pregnancy? _Sam thought. _Seven more months of this?_

_If the surrogate is a male—_

_Yes, what if the surrogate is a male? _Sam thought.

_If the surrogate is a male, he will be endowed with the necessary female sex organs to ensure carrying and delivering of the baby._

Sam stared at the paragraph in shock. _Necessary female sex organs…carrying…delivering?!_

Sam handed the book to Dean to read while he looked up at Stephanie. "You're dying?"

Stephanie nodded. "Cancer. My husband and I never had enough money, so we didn't catch it in time. The doctors gave me a couple months. I am so sorry that I pushed this on you, but…" tears began forming in her eyes, "I couldn't let my child die."

Dean had finished reading at this point, and looked up at Sam. "Dude, she gave you a sex change." He began laughing.

"Dean, focus here," said Sam. He turned back to Stephanie. "So, how'd you find me?"

"Well, it was those signs," Stephanie explained. "First, I found a pregnancy magazine on my doorstep for Guthrie, Oklahoma. When I got there, I found a pamphlet for a park there. And then—get this—a deer, or impala, if you will, walked up and handed me a metal decal that said 67. I realized it was a car—'67 Impala. I headed back to town and spotted the two of you in the car. Then Sam got out and there was a symbol glowing on his shirt. I saw him drop his wallet, and that's when I made my move." Sam stared at the floor. "You can do the spell again, though. Find someone else."

Dean seemed to breathe again, but Sam stared at the floor still. True, this was a big thing and his body would go through a lot of changes and pain. But, even though it had only been a few days since he found out about it, Sam had developed a sort of bond with this child, his charge.

Sam looked up at Stephanie. "No. I'm good."

"You're what?" exclaimed Dean, staring at him.

"Look, Dean, I can't just turn the two of them away. Besides, we know about the supernatural. You think the next person will?"

"But—"

"This is my choice, Dean. I have to do this."

Dean stared at him for a moment. "You don't give a shit about yourself, do you? Ready to do anything to please anybody. Don't even give it a second thought. Well, I am not gonna sit here and watch you throw your life away." With that, Dean stormed to the front door and slammed it on his way out. A moment later, they heard the Impala rev and pull away from the house.

Sam looked at Stephanie. "Sorry about him. He's…Is stubborn asshole an actual condition?"

Stephanie laughed as Sam did, also.

"So…When the baby's born, which family member do you want it to go to?" asked Sam.

Stephanie looked at him. "You."

Sam stared at her. "Me?"

"There's no more family. You're going to be carrying it. The spell chose you because you are innocent and pure and full of love. I can't think of a better father."

"Are you sure?"

"Positive."

"Let me think about it."

"Okay."

* * *

Sam finally made it to the motel after having walked the whole way. He spotted the Impala in front of the room.

_So Dean __**is**__ here. This should be fun and easy._

He took a deep breath and opened the door, finding Dean sitting in a chair on the far side of the room, staring at the carpet. Sam closed the door, staring at Dean for a moment. He wasn't sure how to start this, and he wanted to not push Dean away.

Sam inhaled deeply. "Look, Dean…"

Dean stood up suddenly and grabbed his jacket, heading out the door and to his car. Sam sighed and flopped down on the bed. He was too tired to go after him, not that he could catch him in the Impala, anyway. Within a few minutes, Sam dozed off.

* * *

Sam sat at the table in the motel room with his laptop as Dean showered in the bathroom. When he came out, he glanced at Sam and then walked over to his duffel bag. Sam shook his head in annoyance and went back to the computer screen. A moment later, something was tossed onto the table next to him. Sam looked over to see a small wad of money lying on the table. Picking it up, he looked up at Dean, who was sitting on the bed closest to him and looking at him.

"What's this?" asked Sam.

"College fund," stated Dean.

Sam stared at him. "College fund?"

"When I did the police search, I saw that she didn't have any other family, so I figured she'd ask you to take the baby. And being the awesome uncle that I am, I figured I'd start the kid on his college fund."

Sam stared at Dean, at a loss for words. He looked down at the money and back up at Dean. "But…I haven't given her an answer yet—"

"No, I know. It's just…I wanted to let you know that…" Dean trailed off. Sam could tell he was having a hard time getting his emotions out. "Whatever you decide…I'm gonna be there." Dean looked down at the floor, embarrassed. "And this way I can make sure that…" He looked up at Sam, shocked that he had let those words slip.

"Make sure of what?" asked Sam.

"Nothing," said Dean quickly. "It's nothing."

"Oh, no, Dean. You brought this up. You're talking."

"I can't. I promised."

"Who?"

"Dad."

Sam stared at him, confused. "What are you talking about?"

Dean looked down at the motel floor. "Before Dad died, he told me something." He took a deep breath and then looked up at Sam. "He told me something about you."

"What?" Sam asked. Dean didn't say anything. "Dean, what did he tell you?"

Dean stared at him for a moment, hesitating. "He said that he wanted me to watch out for you, to take care of you."

"He told you that a million times."

"No, this time was different. He said that I had to…save you."

"Save me from what?"

"He just said that I had to save you, that nothing else mattered. And that if I couldn't, I'd…"

"You'd what, Dean?"

"I'd have to kill you," said Dean. Sam stared at him, shocked. "He said that I might have to kill you, Sammy."

"Kill me? What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"I don't know."

"I mean, he must have had some kind of reason for saying it, right? Did he know the demon's plans for me? Am I supposed to go Darkside or something? What else did he say, Dean?"

"Nothing, that's it. I swear."

"How could you not have told me this?"

"Because it was Dad, and he begged me not to."

"Who cares?! Take some responsibility for yourself, Dean! You had no right to keep this from me!"

"You think I wanted this? Huh? I wish to God he'd never opened his mouth. Then I wouldn't have to walk around with this screaming in my head all day."

Sam got up and turned away from Dean, fuming. "We've just got to figure out what's going on, then, what the hell all this means."

"We do? I've been thinking about this all night. I think we should just lay low. You know? At least for a while, if not for a few years for the kid. It'd be safer. Think about it, Sam. If we do keep that kid, we can't be hunting. At least not until the kid's old enough."

Sam nodded, letting Dean's words sink in. Dean stood up and walked up to Sam.

"Sam, I'm sorry. I never meant to keep this from you, but I couldn't tell you. But I will never leave, okay? You're gonna need me, and I can't just abandon you. So, like it or not, I'm—"

Dean was cut off as Sam wrapped his arms around him. Dean stood there, shocked, as his brother hugged him.

"Thank you," muttered Sam.

"What for?"

Sam let Dean go and backed away a little. "For being you. For being my big brother. For not leaving."

Dean smiled at him. "Any time." Sam sat back down in his chair. "So…what did you decide?"

Sam looked up at him. "Not yet. I think we should tell her first."

"Tell her what?"

"What we do."

"Are you crazy?"

"Dean, she has a right to know what her kid is gonna be exposed to in its life. Even if we do settle down and quit hunting, this stuff is still going to come after us. I mean, we're…_us._"

"She's not gonna believe us, Sam."

"She did a spell that put her baby into me. I think she will."

"But…"

"She has a right to make an informed decision, Dean. She's the mother."

Dean took a deep breath. "Fine, let's go."


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter Six

Stephanie opened her door when someone knocked on it. She smiled when she saw who it was.

"Come in," said Stephanie. Sam and Dean came into the living room and sat on the couch. "Uh…did you decide?"

"Before we do, you need to know something about us," said Sam.

_Oh, gosh, the spell screwed up. He's a serial killer, isn't he?_

"We're hunters," said Dean.

Stephanie let out a breath. "Well, that's not so bad."

"No, you misunderstand us," said Sam. "We hunt ghosts."

"Ghosts?" asked Stephanie.

"Basically, anything supernatural," Dean explained. "If we catch wind of anything unexplainable, we hunt it down and kill it."

"Only if it's evil," Sam quickly added.

"Yeah, right," said Dean. "Only if it's evil."

"How did you get into this?" Stephanie asked.

"Our mother was killed by a demon," Sam explained. "Ever since, we've been searching for it with our father."

"So…you guys hunt demons, ghosts, spirits…"

"Vampires, werewolves, zombies, wendigos, shapeshifters, pagan gods…anything and everything," said Dean.

"We're telling you this so you can choose where you want your child to go," said Sam. "If we keep the baby, we'll definitely quit hunting, but…we can't guarantee that something won't come after us.

"It's your choice," said Dean.

Stephanie thought for a moment. _They hunt the supernatural…It's pretty clear they're in danger a lot, but…if this stuff is really out there, who better to protect my child?_

"I don't care," said Stephanie. They frowned at her, confused. "I don't care about any of it. I still want you to be the godfather."

"Are you serious?" asked Dean.

"Well, look at it this way. With everything that's out there, what if my child goes to some family who doesn't know and can't protect it? You two are experts. I mean, you must be. You tracked me down. So, the only question is…will you take my child?"

Sam thought for a moment, considering his next move. _If we do this, there's no turning back. This kid will be dependent on us for everything. We'll have to raise it, feed it, shelter it, and protect it from our old lives. Then there's the matter of the Yellow-Eyed Demon. Who's going to hunt him down if we quit? Well, there's always Bobby and Ellen. I'm sure someone'll get him._

Sam looked up at Dean, his eyes asking a question: 'Are you sure you wanna do this?' Dean gave Sam a smile and a nod: 'Bet your ass I want to.'

Sam smiled at Stephanie. "We'll do it."

Stephanie put her head in her hands, too happy to say anything. She felt a hand on her shoulder and looked up to see Sam had taken the seat next to her, comforting her. "Thank you so much." She looked at the both of them "I suppose I should get this into my will."

"Actually…you probably shouldn't," said Dean. "Our job requires us to do some…questionable things. Since we don't get paid, we use credit card scams. We have several counts of grave desecration from trying to get rid of ghosts. We ran into a shapeshifter, who then framed me for murder, so we killed it. Technically, I'm dead. So, the will thing…not such a good idea."

"Okay, here's what I'll do: nobody knew I was pregnant, so you two can just have the baby, no questions asked."

Sam smiled. "We appreciate it."

* * *

**One week later…**

Sam got out of the Impala with some bags of groceries. Dean got out of the driver's seat and grabbed a couple more bags. Stephanie had offered the boys the guest rooms at her house. They had accepted, helping her with yard work, laundry and chores. Sam was at the door to unlock it and Dean was halfway up the walk when Sam dropped his key. As he bent to pick it up, a bullet hit the door where his head had been. He dropped his groceries as Dean did the same.

"Sam!" Dean yelled.

Sam fumbled with his keys as another bullet hit the concrete step he was on. Dean darted forward and crouched behind Sam, shielding his little brother with his body. The bullets stopped; whoever was shooting was after Sam, not Dean. Sam got the door unlocked, and got up a little to hurry inside. A bullet hit the doorframe as Sam passed it. Dean followed him in, slamming the door and locking it.

"What's happening?" exclaimed Stephanie as she ran into the room.

"Get in a room back there and lock the door!" Dean ordered. Stephanie quickly complied as Sam darted for the trunk in the corner. They had moved their weapons into the house since they'd be living here for a few months. As bullets whizzed into the living room through the windows, Sam opened the trunk, tossing Dean his .45. Sam grabbed his own gun, getting to his feet.

"No, you stay here," ordered Dean. "Cover me."

"What?" said Sam over the bullets. "You're not going out there by yourself!"

"This guy is after you, not me!" said Dean. "You gotta protect the baby!"

"Dean—"

Dean darted out the front door, gun raised. The bullets stopped as Sam crouched and pointed his gun out the window, covering Dean. Sam watched as a man with a semi-automatic rifle came out from behind a car across the street. Dean fought for the gun, wrestling it out of the guy's hands. He trapped the guy in a headlock, dragging him to the house. Sam stood up to cover the guy as Dean pulled him inside.

Sam stared at him. "Gordon?"

Gordon Walker glared at Sam. Dean dragged him to a chair and Sam tied him to it.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" said Dean.

"I'm a hunter, Dean," said Gordon. He looked over at Sam. "And your brother's fair game."

"What?" said Dean. "Since when are humans fair game?"

"See, I was doing an exorcism down in Louisiana," explained Gordon. "Teenage girl, seemed routine, some low-level demon. But between all the jabbering and the head-spinning, the damn thing muttered something. About a coming war. And I don't think it meant to, it just kind of slipped out. But it was too late. Peaked my interest. And you can really make a demon talk, you got the right tools."

"And what happened to the girl it was possessing?" asked Dean.

"She didn't make it," said Gordon.

Dean shook his head. "Well, you're a son of a bitch."

"Hey!" said Gordon. "That's my momma you're talking about. Anyway. This demon tells me there are soldiers to fight in this coming war. Humans, fighting on hell's side. You believe that? I mean, they're psychics, so they're not exactly pure humans, but still. What kind of worthless scumbag have you got to be to turn against your own race?" Dean glared at him. "But you know the biggest kick in the ass? This demon said I knew one of them." Gordon turned his head to glare at Sam. "Our very own Sammy Winchester."

"What makes you think it's true?" said Sam.

"Come on," said Gordon. "I know. About your visions. I know everything."

"Really?" said Dean. "Because a demon told you?" He laughed. "Yeah, and it wasn't lying."

"Hey, Dean," said Gordon. "I'm not some reckless yahoo, okay? I did my homework. Made damn sure it was true. Look, you've got your Roadhouse connections, I got mine. It's how I found Sammy in the first place. They're all going to be killers, Dean. We've got to take them all out. And that means Sammy, too."

Sam glared at Gordon. He was about to say something when Dean spoke up.

"Come on, man," said Dean. "I know Sam, better than anyone. He's got more of a conscience than I do. I mean, the guy feels guilty surfing the internet for porn."

"Maybe you're right," said Gordon. "But one day, he's going to be a monster."

"How? Huh? How's a guy like Sam become a monster?"

"Beats me. But he will."

"No, you don't know that!"

"I'm right here, guys!" said Sam, but they ignored him.

"I'm surprised at you, Dean," said Gordon. "Getting all emotional. I'd heard you were more of a professional than this. Look, let's say you were cruising around in that car of yours and, uh, you had Little Hitler riding shotgun, right? Back when he was just some goofy, crappy artist. But you knew what he was going to turn into someday. You'd take him out, no questions, am I right?"

"That's not Sam," said Dean.

"Yes, it is. You just can't see it yet. Dean, it's his destiny. Look, I'm sympathetic. He's your brother, you love the guy. This has got to hurt like hell for you. But here's the thing. It would wreck him. But your dad? If it really came right down to it, he would have had the stones to do the right thing here. But you're telling me you're not the man he is?"

"Don't you dare bring our father into this, you bastard," said Dean.

"Guys, I'm right here!" said Sam, his gun still aiming at Gordon.

Gordon turned his gaze to Sam. "You wouldn't shoot me, would you, Sammy? Because your brother, he thinks you're some kind of saint. Do it." Sam just stood there. "Do it! Show your brother the killer you really are, Sammy."

Sam stalked over to him, and whipped the gun across his face. "It's Sam." Gordon looked up at him. "I'm not gonna kill you, Gordon. You're a human being. A truly evil human being, but human none the less. I can't kill you."

"Now, you see, that's where you're wrong," said Gordon. "You don't think all those other things you've hunted thought they were innocent, too…thought they were doing the right thing…thought that we were evil just because we wanted them dead? You're no better than the filthy things you hunt."

"Believe that all you want," said Sam. "It doesn't make it true." He and Dean walked into the kitchen. "What are we gonna do with him?"

"I got a plan," said Dean. "Gordon can hurt anyone else if he's locked up, right?" Sam shrugged. "Well, that's what we'll do."

"How?"

"I'll figure it out," said Dean. He grabbed Gordon and hauled him to the Impala, speeding off to fix their problem.

"Stephanie, you can come out now," Sam called. "Everything's okay."

Stephanie came out, shocked. "Was it a demon?"

"No," said Sam. "A hunter." Stephanie frowned at him. "He's…got issues. Seemed to think it was a good idea to hunt me. Don't worry. Dean's dealing with it."


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter Seven

**Two months later…**

Sam was four months along now and was developing a strong bond, both with the baby and with the mother. Stephanie was growing close, and Sam felt very protective of her. She was becoming almost like a sister.

Sam sat in the living room, watching television. Dean and Stephanie were out running errands while Sam got over the last of the morning sickness. It had been capering off, and Sam was certain this was the last day of nausea for him.

He rubbed a hand over his stomach and withdrew it with a gasp. He lifted his shirt and peered down at his belly. It was rounder and slightly protruding. He put his hand on it, surprised to find that hard, firm muscles had transformed into soft, tender flesh. Sam was so transfixed, he didn't notice the lights flickering.

A slight wind sprang up, tearing Sam's gaze away from his stomach. He looked around to see a black cloud zooming in through the crack at the bottom of the door.

"No," Sam muttered as he ran for the weapons trunk.

As he reached for the lid, the cloud pushed him up against the wall. As Sam yelled, the black cloud jammed itself down his throat. As a cloud of darkness descended over his mind, Sam slumped to the floor.

_No, no, no, no!_ Sam yelled, but the words never left his lips.

_Yes!_ said a voice in his head—the voice of the demon.

_Who are you?_ Sam inquired.

_Think real hard; it'll come to you._

Sam froze in shock as he realized who had possessed him. _Meg?_

* * *

**One week later…**

Dean leaned up against his car under an overpass, fidgeting while he talked on his cell phone.

"Ellen, it's me again," said Dean. "Any chance you've heard from him?"

"No, Dean, I'm sorry," Ellen answered.

"I swear, it's like looking for my dad all over again," said Dean. "I'm losing my mind here."

"Well, have you tried his cell?" said Ellen.

"No, I've called him a thousand times, there's nothing but voicemail. I don't know where he went, or why. Sam's just gone." His cell phone beeped in his ear. "Hang on." He pulled the phone to see who was calling: Sam. Forgetting about Ellen, he answered it. "Sammy? Where the hell are you? Are you okay?"

"Dean, you gotta help me," said Sam, his voice coming out in a rush. "Something's happened. I'm not sure—"

"Hey, hey, hey!" said Dean. "Calm down. Where are you?"

"Twin Lakes Motel, room 109," Sam replied numbly.

"Alright, don't move. I'm on my way."

Dean hung up and hopped into his car. When he got to the motel, he rushed to room 109, knocking on the door.

"Sam, it's me," Dean called. "Sam!" There was no answer, so he tried the door. It opened and he stepped inside, closing the door. Sam was sitting on one of the beds, staring at the floor. "Sam? Hey."

"Hey, Dean," said Sam quietly.

Dean knelt beside him, spotting the blood on his knuckles. "Are you bleeding?"

"I tried to wash it off," said Sam.

Dean spotted the dried blood on his shirt. "Oh, my gosh." (A/N: Sorry, I don't use God's name in vain, even in writing.) Dean groped at his shirt, searching for a wound.

"I don't think it's my blood."

"Whose is it?"

"I don't know."

"Sam, what the hell happened?"

Sam looked up at Dean, eyes a little wet. "Dean…I don't remember anything."

Dean stared at him, shocked. "Okay, wait here. I'll go check with the manager." Dean got up and chatted with the manager, then came back into the room.

"What'd you find out?" asked Sam.

"You checked in two days ago under the name Richard Sambora," said Dean. "Of course, I think the scariest part about this whole thing is the fact that you're a Bon Jovi fan—"

"Dean…"

"Your room's been quiet. Nobody's noticed anything unusual."

"You mean no one saw me walking about covered in blood?"

"Yeah. That's what I mean."

"Then how the hell did I get here, Dean? What happened to me?"

"I don't know. But you're okay, the baby's okay, and that's what matters. Everything else we can deal with."

"Oh really? 'Cause what if I hurt someone? Or worse?"

"Sam…"

"What if this is what Dad warned you about?"

"Hey, whoa, whoa, come on, man. Let's not jump the gun here. We don't know what happened. We've just got to treat this like any other job. What's the last thing you remember?"

Sam sat on the couch. "You and Stephanie went out to run errands."

"That was over a week ago."

"That's it," said Sam. Dean was stunned. "Next thing I knew I was sitting here. Bloody. Felt like I'd been asleep for a month."

"Okay. Retrace your steps. The manager said you left yesterday afternoon and he never saw you come back, so…" Dean pulled back the curtain on the window, finding a bloody fingerprint on the window. "Hey."

Sam came over to the window, and looked at it. "I climbed through the window?"

Dean led Sam out of the motel and to the back, where Sam's window was. They began walking down the parking lot.

"Recognize anything?" asked Dean.

"Not really," said Sam. They walked toward a parking garage next door. "Wait."

"What?"

"I think I was here."

"You remember?"

"Not really, it just feels familiar, you know?" said Sam. Dean shrugged and went for the nearest storage garage. Sam looked over at another one, pointing to it. "Try that one." Dean tugged on a padlock on that door. "Wait."

Sam dug in his pocket, frowning. He pulled out a key and gave it to Dean. Dean opened the padlock and pulled the door open to reveal a filthy, beat-up VW Beetle.

"Oh, please tell me you didn't steal this," said Dean.

Sam fidgeted, and they went into the garage. They opened both doors, Sam at the driver's side, Dean at the passenger side. Sam spotted something on the steering wheel and touched it, showing Dean. "More blood."

Dean pointed into the back seat. "Sam. Back seat."

Sam reached down and picked up a blood-stained knife, staring at it. "You think I used this on someone?"

Dean paused. "I'm not thinking anything." Sam looked around and rubbed the knife handle off on the inside of his jacket, throwing it in the back. Dean picked up a pack of cigarettes. "Smoking? You're smoking? You shouldn't be smoking. It's bad for the baby."

"No, no…I can't…I smoked?" Sam was stunned that he might have done harm to John.

"Come on, man, this couldn't have been you," said Dean. "Had to have been someone else, someone who smoke menthols."

Sam picked up a piece of paper. "Here. Gas receipt. Few towns over."

* * *

Dean pulled up in front of a small gas station and looked over at Sam. "Alright. Receipt's for ten gallons at pump number two. You getting any, uh, any goosebumps yet? Gosh, this looks familiar, déjà vu vibes?" Sam shook his head quietly. Dean spotted a clerk inside. "Maybe someone inside will remember you. Come on."

He climbed out of the Impala as Sam followed him. When they entered the convenience store, the clerk spotted Sam, his eyes widening.

"You," said the clerk, his voice raising. "Outta here now. I'm calling the cops."

"You talking to him?" asked Dean.

"Yeah, I'm talking to him," said the clerk. "Jerk comes in yesterday, stinking drunk, grabs a forty from the fridge, starts chugging it."

"This guy?" said Dean. He turned to Sam. "You're drinking malt liquor?" _That's another mark for the baby's health._

"Not after he whipped the frigging bottle at my head," said the clerk.

"This guy?" asked Dean.

"What, am I speaking Urdu?" said the clerk.

"Look, I'm really sorry if I did anything," said Sam.

"Tell your story walking, pal," said the clerk, raising the phone to his ear. "Po-po will be here in five."

"Wait, wait, put the phone down," said Dean. "Sam, go wait in the car."

"But Dean—"

"Go wait in the car!" said Dean. Sam sighed and left. "Okay, look, man. I just want to talk to you, that's it. Okay?" The clerk hung up. "Now, when he took off yesterday, where did he go?"

"Why don't you ask him?" said the clerk.

"'Cause I'm asking you. Now please, you'd be doing me a huge favor."

"Oh, do you a favor? Well, that is what I live for. You know, your buddy didn't pay for the booze. Okay? Or the smokes, which he also illegally lit up."

"You saw him smoking?"

"Yeah. Guy's a chimney."

Dean cleared his throat. _Damn._ He pulled his wallet out and placed some bills on the desk. "This, uh, ought to cover it."

"Hmm. It's, uh, it's coming back to me now. He took two packs."

Dean pulled out more money. "Of course he did."

"He went north. Route 71, straight out of town."

Dean nodded and grabbed two candy bars, leaving with a smirk.

* * *

Dean drove down the highway while Sam stared out the window.

"What's going on with you, Sam?" asked Dean. "Hm? 'Cause smoking, throwing bottles at people, I mean, that sounds more like me than you."

"Dean, wait, right here," said Sam, straightening in his seat. "Turn down that road."

"What?" said Dean.

"I don't know how I know, I just do."

Dean turned down a back road and onto a private property. It was a large house with plenty of emergency lighting and security cameras outside.

"Whoever lives here, I'd say they don't like surprises," said Sam. They walked to the front door.

"Should we knock?" asked Dean.

"Yeah, I guess," said Sam as he headed down the porch. Dean knocked on the front door while Sam poked around the corner. "Hey, Dean."

Sam waved his flashlight at a window; it was broken, the ledge covered in shattered glass.

"I'm surprised the cops didn't show," said Dean. "Place like this you'd think it'd have an alarm."

Sam found a disabled alarm on the wall. "Yeah, you would."

The two of them entered the house, finding the floor covered in broken glass and scattered items. In a back room, they came across a body on the floor.

"Get the lights," said Dean.

Sam turned the lights on as Dean knelt behind the body. He placed a hand on it and turned it over. It was a middle-aged man with a deeply cut throat. Dean put a hand over his own mouth, and Sam looked horrified.

"Dean, I did this."

"We don't know that."

"What else do you need? I mean, how else do you explain the car, the knife, the blood—"

"I don't know, man, why don't you tell me?" Sam was silent. "Look, even if you did do this I'm sure you had a good reason; you know, self-defense, uh, he was, he was a bad son of a bitch, something." He patted down the body. "He doesn't have any ID."

"I need your lockpick."

"What?"

"I need your lockpick."

Sam took the lockpick from Dean and opened a double-door closet in the room. Inside the room, one wall was covered in firearms, the others in charts and clippings.

"Either this guy's a Unabomber —" started Dean.

"Or a hunter. Dean, I think I killed a hunter."

Dean saw a security camera near the ceiling. "Let's find out."

Sam hacked onto the computer, pulling up the security footage. Dean stood behind him, watching the screen. Sam cued up the security tape.

"Here we go," said Dean.

On the tape, Sam was fighting the same man who lay dead on the floor behind them. The fight moved off camera and Sam dragged the man back into the frame. He knelt, the man pulled up against his legs, and slit his throat. Sam stared in shock as Dean pulled back from the screen and stood straight.

* * *

Sam sat at the computer desk, staring at a page in his hand. Dean bustled around behind him, cleaning up.

"How do you erase this?" Dean asked, pointing to the computer. "Huh? Sam, come on, I need your help."

"I killed him, Dean. I just broke in and killed him."

"Listen to me. Whoever this guy is, he's a hunter. Which means that other hunters are going to come looking for his killer, which means we've got to cover our tracks, okay?"

"His name was Steve Wandell. This is a letter from his daughter."

Sam tossed the letter onto the desk. Dean looked from Sam to the letter and then made a decision. He grabbed the CPU, lifted it above his head, and smashed it to the floor, stomping it with his boots for good measure.

"Wipe your prints, then we go," said Dean.

* * *

Sam walked into the motel room, followed by Dean.

"Alright, we get a couple hours sleep and then we put this place in our rearview mirror," said Dean. "Look, I know this is bad, okay? You've gotta snap out of it. Sam, say something!"

"Just get some sleep and leave in the morning? Murder, Dean. That's what I did."

"Maybe." Sam scoffed. "Okay? Hey, we don't know...shapeshifter!"

"Oh, come on. You know it wasn't, you saw the tape. There was no eye flare, no distortion—"

"Yeah, but it wasn't you! All right? I mean, yeah, it might have been you, but it wasn't you."

"Well, I think it was," said Sam. He sat down on the bed. "I think maybe more than you know."

"What the hell does that mean?"

"For the last few weeks I've been having...I've been having these feelings."

"What feelings?" Dean sat down opposite him on the other bed.

"Rage. Hate. And I can't stop it. It just gets worse. Day by day it gets worse."

"You never told me this."

"I didn't want to scare you."

"Well, bang-up job on that." Dean got up again.

"Dean, the yellow-eyed demon, you know he has plans for me. And we both know that he's turned other children into killers before, too."

"No one can control you but you."

"It sure doesn't seem like that, Dean, it feels like no matter what I do, slowly but surely I'm, I'm just becoming..."

"What?"

"Who I'm meant to be. I mean, you said it once yourself, Dean. I gotta face up to who I am."

"I didn't mean this!"

"But it's still true. You know that. Dad knew that too, that's why he told you, if it ever came to this…"

"Shut up, Sam."

"Dean, you promised him. You promised me."

"No. Listen to me. We're going to figure this out. Okay? I mean, there's got to be a way, right?"

"Yeah, there is," said Sam. He took a handgun from his duffel, and shoved it at Dean. "I don't want to hurt anyone else. I don't want to hurt you."

"You won't. Whatever this is, you can fight it."

Sam started tearing up. "No. I can't. Not forever. Sooner or later, it'll hurt everyone I love…including the baby. I can't let him be born into something like this. Here, you gotta do it."

Sam grabbed Dean's right hand and placed the gun in it. Dean didn't move, just stared at Sam in shock.

"You know, I've tried so hard to keep you safe," said Dean.

Sam nodded. "I know."

"I can't. I'd rather die."

Dean dropped the gun on the bed and shouldered past Sam.

"No. You'll live." Sam picked up the gun as Dean turned to face him. "You'll live to regret this."

He pistol-whipped Dean, who fell to the floor unconscious.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter Eight

Dean woke up in the morning to a knocking on the door. The motel manager opened the door.

"Hey," said the manager. "It's past your checkout."

Dean got to his feet and approached the door. "What?"

"It's past checkout, and I've got a couple here needs your room," said the manager, looking behind him at a couple.

Dean spotted the embarrassed businessman with a hooker. "Yeah, I'll bet they do. What time is it?"

"Twelve-thirty."

"That guy who was with me, have you seen him?"

"Yeah, he left before dawn in your car, and you should have gone with him, because now I'm going to have to charge you extra."

"Oh, son of a..."

"It's just policy, sir."

"I need to use your computer."

"Now, why would I let you use my computer?"

Dean pulled out several dollars bills, and the manager happily led him to the front desk. Dean logged onto a website as he dialed the number. "Hi, uh, so sorry to bother you, but uh, my son snuck out of the house last night and, uh, went to a Justin Timberlake concert." He listened to the person. "What? Yeah. No, Justin is quite the triple threat. Uh, anyway, he's not back yet, and, and I'm just, I'm starting to worry."

"Well, he's a boy," said the person. "It's in his nature."

"Right. Yeah, boys will be boys. But see, Sammy is a diabetic, and uh, if he doesn't get his insulin, I just, I have to find him. Please, I'm begging you."

"Okay, do you have the website up?"

"Yeah, no, no, no, I'm on the web site right now, I just need to activate the GPS in his cell phone." Dean entered a password. "Yeah, right there. Duluth, Minnesota. Yeah, that is a long way to go for a concert. I appreciate your help."

Dean climbed into the Impala, speeding for Duluth. When he got there, he spotted Sam standing next to a tied-up Jo. Dean rushed to the trunk, pulled out his cell phone and a flask of holy water.

_There's no way that thing is my brother._

Dean kicked in the door, rushing into the bar and aiming his gun at Sam. "Sam!"

Sam grabbed the knife from the pillar above Jo's head and placed it at Jo's throat. "I begged you to stop me, Dean."

"Put the knife down, damnit," said Dean.

"I told you I can't fight it! My head feels like it's on fire, all right?! Dean. Kill me, or I'm going to kill her. Please. You've be doing me a favor! Shoot me." Sam turned to face Dean, arms spread to give Dean a clear shot. "Shoot me!"

Dean hesitated, on the verge of tears. "No, Sammy, come on." He turned away, lowering the gun.

"What the hell's wrong with you, Dean? Are you that scared of being alone that you'd rather let Jo die?"

Dean turned suddenly, flinging water from a flask at Sam. The water hissed and steamed as it struck him.

"That's holy water, you demonic son of a bitch!" Dean yelled.

Sam raised his head, revealing his black eyes. Dean flung more holy water at him. Sam growled, turned and ran, bursting through a window and fleeing. Dean took the knife and cut Jo free. She pulled the gag out of her mouth as Dean ran towards the shattered window.

"He was possessed?!" said Jo. Dean turned and stared at her for a moment, then leapt through the window. "Dean!"

Dean made his way to the warehouse behind the bar, looking for Sam.

"So who are you?" Dean called.

"I got lots of names," the demon inside Sam called back.

"You've been in Sam since he disappeared, haven't you?"

"You should have seen your face when you thought he murdered that guy. Pathetic."

"Why didn't you kill me? You had a dozen chances."

"No, that would have been too easy. Where's the fun in that? See, this was a test. Wanted to see if I could push you far enough to waste Sam. Should have known you wouldn't have the sac. Anyway. Fun's over now."

"Well, I hope you got your kicks. Because you're gonna pay hell for this, I'm gonna make sure of that."

"How? You can't hurt me. Not without hurting your little brother or the baby. See, I think you're gonna die, Dean. You and every other hunter I can find. One look as Sam's dewey, sensitive eyes? They'll let me right in their door."

Sam led Dean outside to an open-air dock. Once he was out in the open, looking around, Sam stepped out, took aim, and shot Dean, hitting him in the shoulder. Dean collapsed into the water with a splash. He could feel the bullet stinging his flesh as he struggled to make his way through the water. He could feel his lungs burning as he fought for the surface. He broke through and took a deep lungful of air, trying to find the dock. He passed out before he could find a direction to go.

* * *

"Dean! Dean!"

Dean jolted awake to someone calling his name. He sat up, groaning.

"Take it easy," said Jo.

Dean shuddered and groaned in pain. "Where's Sam?"

"I don't know, I've been looking for you. Come on, get up."

Jo helped him to stand, and he leaned on her heavily, clutching his shoulder, as they walked back to the bar. Dean sat down at a table while Jo fetched the supplies. Dean took his jacket off and Jo cut his sleeve off to get to the bullet wound. She began digging in the wound, and Dean moaned in pain.

"Don't be a baby!" said Jo. Dean groaned again. "Almost. All right, got it. Got it." She dropped the bloodstained bullet in a glass of clear alcohol. Dean took a few healthy swigs from a bottle of whiskey.

"You're a butcher," said Dean.

"You're welcome," said Jo.

"All right, are we done?"

"Would you give me two minutes to patch you up? You can't help Sam if you're bleeding to death." She started laying gauze and tape over the wound. "So, how did you know? That he was possessed?"

"Uh, I didn't, I just knew that it couldn't have been him."

"Hey, Dean."

"Yeah?"

"I know demons lie, but do they ever tell the truth, too?"

"Uh, um, yeah, sometimes, I guess. Especially if they know it'll mess with your head. Why do you ask?"

"Nothing. Doesn't matter. So do you have any idea where he's headed to next?"

"Well, so far he's been going after the nearest hunter, so…closest one I know lives in South Dakota."

"Okay good, I'm done. Let's go."

"Yeah. You're not coming."

"The hell I'm not. I'm a part of this now."

"I can't say it more plain than this. You try to follow me and I'll tie you right back to that post and leave you here. This is my fight. I'm not getting your blood on my hands. That's just how it's gonna be."

"Wait," said Jo. Dean turned back, and she handed him a prescription bottle. "Here. Take these, they'll help with the pain."

"Thanks. I'll call you later, okay?" Dean walked out of the bar, and headed for his car, throwing on his jacket. He looked up to see the Impala gone. "Dammit, he stole my car." He hotwired one of the cars in the lot and sped towards Bobby's house. Halfway there, he dialed the number, but it was disconnected halfway through. "Dammit." Ten minutes later, his phone rang. "Hello?"

"Dean, it's Bobby."

"Bobby, you okay?" Dean asked.

"I'm fine, ya idgit. Sam's tied up unconscious in the devil's trap in my living room."

"What?"

"Don't worry, I didn't hurt him too bad. The baby will be fine."

"I'll be there in twenty minutes."

* * *

Dean smacked Sam across the face, waking him. "Hey!"

Sam looked up, and saw the painted Devil's Trap. He glared back down at Dean. "Dean. Back from the dead. Getting to be a regular thing for you, isn't it? Like a cockroach."

"How about I smack that smartass right out of your mouth?"

"Oh, careful, now." Sam glanced down at his stomach. "Wouldn't want to bruise this fine packaging."

"Oh don't worry, this isn't gonna hurt Sam much," said Dean. He turned to pick up a bucket. "You, on the other hand—" He tossed a bucketful of holy water on Sam, who sizzled and screamed. "Feel like talking now?"

Sam took deep breaths. "Sam's still my meat puppet. I'll make him bite off his tongue."

"No, you won't be in him long enough. Bobby."

Bobby lifted the book in his hands. "Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus, omnis satanica potestas, omnis incursio infernalis adversarii…"

"See, whatever bitch-boy master plan you demons are cooking up?" Dean said, leaning towards Sam. Sam yelled in pain. "You're not getting Sam. You understand me? Because I'm gonna kill every one of you first."

Sam struggled painfully, and then threw back his head and cackled. Bobby cut off in surprise.

"You really think that's what this is about?" huffed Sam. "The master plan? I don't give a rat's ass about the master plan."

"Humiliare sub potenti manu dei—" Bobby started.

"Oops," said Sam. Bobby stopped, stunned. "Doesn't seem to be working. See, I learned a few new tricks." Sam lowered his head and began chanting. "Spiritus immundus guaram suarum amitite palatium iram domine…"

The fire flared behind Sam, and Bobby and Dean jumped a little. The room began shaking.

"This isn't going like I pictured!" yelled Dean. "What's going on, Bobby?"

Bobby searched and spotted something on Sam's forearm. He pulled the shirt back to look at a burn. "It's a binding link! It's like a lock! He's locked himself inside Sam's body!"

"What the hell do we do?"

"I don't know!"

Sam threw back his head and yelled. The shaking walls and ceilings began to crack, breaking the protective circle. Sam's eyes were black as he lowered his head.

"There," said Sam. "That's better."

Sam jerked his head left, and Bobby went flying. He jerked his head right, and Dean went flying, landing heavily against the far wall. The holy water flask fell from Dean's hand. Sam ripped free of the restraints and stalked over to Dean.

"You know when people want to describe the worst possible thing?" said Sam as he knelt in front of Dean. "They say it's like hell." Sam fisted his left hand in Dean's shirt and clocked him hard with a right jab. Dean grabbed onto Sam's shirt with his right hand. "You know, there's a reason for that. Hell is like, um…" He hit Dean again. "Well, it's like hell. Even for demons." He hit Dean again. Dean was groggy and bleeding heavily from the nose. "It's a prison, made of bone and flesh and blood and fear." He hit him again, and grabbed Dean's head, holding it steady. "And you sent me back there."

Dean sneered, realizing. "Meg."

"No. Not anymore. Now I'm Sam." Sam hit him one last time. He dug his right thumb into Dean's bullet wound. "By the way. I saw your Dad there—he says 'howdy.'" He dug in further. Dean tried to pull Sam's hand away, groaning in pain. "All that I had to hold onto was that I would climb out one day, and that I was going to torture you, nice and slow. Like pulling the wings off an insect." He shoved Dean's grasping hand away. "But whatever I do to you, it's nothing compared to what you'll do to yourself, is it? I can see it in your eyes, Dean. You're worthless. You couldn't save your Dad, and deep down you know that you can't save your brother. They'd have been better off without you."

Sam reared back to hit Dean again. Suddenly, Bobby was there, grabbing Sam's arm. He pressed a hot poker into the mark on Sam's arm. Sam screamed in pain, and screamed again as black demon smoke billowed out of him and up the chimney. Sam fell back, scrabbling and looking around in confusion. He grabbed his arm in sudden pain. Dean pulled himself up painfully.

"Sammy?" Dean muttered.

"Did I miss anything?" asked Sam.

Dean reared back and right-hooked Sam in the cheek. He rolled his eyes and collapsed. Sam grabbed his cheek in confusion.

* * *

Sam sat behind Bobby's table with an icepack on his arm. Dean was on the other side of the table, groggily holding an icebag to his face.

"By the way, you really look like crap, Dean," said Sam.

"Yeah, right back atcha," said Dean. Bobby walked in slowly, looking concerned.

"What is it, Bobby?" asked Sam.

"You boys ever hear of a hunter named Steve Wandell?" asked Bobby.

"Why do you ask?" asked Dean.

"Just heard from a friend. Wandell's dead. Murdered in his own house. You wouldn't know anything about that."

"No sir, never heard of the guy," said Dean.

"Dean—" started Sam.

"Good. Keep it that way. Wandell's buddies are looking for someone or something to string up, and they're not going to slow down to listen to reason. You understand what I'm saying?"

"We'd better hit the road," said Dean, standing up and looking at Sam. "If, uh, you can remember where **we** parked the car."

"Here. Take these." Bobby handed each of them a small metal charm.

"What are they?" asked Sam.

"Charms. They'll fend off possession. That demon's still out there; this'll stop it from getting back up in you."

"That sounds vaguely dirty, but uh, thanks," said Dean.

"You're welcome. You boys be careful now."

"You, too," said Sam. At the door, Dean tossed the icebag back to Bobby.

* * *

Dean drove down a dark stretch of highway. Sam frowned quietly, and Dean glanced over in concern.

"You okay? Sam? Is that you in there?"

"I was awake for some of it, Dean. I watched myself kill Wandell with my own two hands; I saw the light go out in his eyes."

"That must have been awful."

"That's not my point. I almost carved up Jo too. But no matter what I did, you wouldn't shoot."

"It was the right move, Sam, it wasn't you."

"Yeah, this time. What about next time?"

"Sam, when Dad told me that I might have to kill you, it was only if I couldn't save you. Now, if it's the last thing I do I'm going to save you. And besides, that won't ever happen. We're quitting, remember?" After a pause, Dean laughed softly.

"What?"

"Nothing."

"Dean, what?"

"Dude, you, you like, full-on had a girl inside you for like a whole week." Dean laughed. "That's pretty naughty."

Sam's frown cracked, and he laughed with Dean. His laugh turned into a frown again. "Oh, crap."

"What?"

"The baby."

"The baby?" Dean realized. "Oh, crap."

"We need to get to the hospital as soon as we get back...see what kind of damage Meg did to him."

* * *

Sam sat on the table in the doctor's office. Well, it wasn't really a doctor's office; more of a cleaned-up room at a hunter's house. She was a doctor that helped hunters. Sam and Dean had explained the whole situation to her, and she had agreed to help them.

Dr. Kimmel walked into the room. "Okay, Sam, baby looks healthy. You dodged a bullet. 'Bout ready to find out what it is?"

"Yeah, I know Stephanie is," said Sam.

He laid back and lifted up his shirt. Dr. Kimmel squirted the gel on his skin and held the scanner to it. The heartbeat echoed in the room.

"Well, that sounds good," said Dr. Kimmel. "Ready to find out?"

Sam smiled. "Hell, yeah."


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter Nine

**Sorry for the delay. Finals approaching. Been busy. And the next Winchester is...........**

"Congratulations," said Dr. Kimmel. "It's a boy."

Sam smiled. "That's great."

"Okay, we're done," said the doctor as she gave a towel to Sam to clean up. Sam walked out into the living room. Dean and Stephanie jumped up.

"Well?" said Stephanie.

"Perfectly healthy baby boy," said Sam, waiting for them to catch on.

Stephanie sighed in relief. "Oh, thank God. A perfectly healthy…boy?"

Sam smiled. "Yep. It's a boy."

Stephanie squealed in delight and wrapped her arms around Sam's neck as best as she could. Sam hugged her back, smiling. Dean clapped a hand on Sam's shoulder.

"At least we won't screw it up," said Dean. "Boys, we can do. Girls, not so much."

Stephanie released Dean. "Oh, I'm sure you two will raise him just fine."

"He better," said Sam. "After all, he had plenty of practice with me."

"Have you thought of any names?" Dean asked her.

"Actually…I want you to name him."

"No, Stephanie," said Sam. "I couldn't. He's your son—"

"Who **you** are carrying, delivering and raising. It should be you."

"Stephanie—"

"Please, Sam. It means a lot to me."

Sam hesitated. "How about this: I run some names by you and you pick one."

Stephanie held her hand out in front of her. "You got a deal." Sam grasped her hand, shaking on it.

* * *

**One month later…**

Sam was five months along and was starting to show. Dean had had to run to the store to buy him sweatpants and bigger shirts. Sam's weird cravings had hit and so had the hormones. And what set them off most of the time…his brother.

Stephanie was beginning to grow pale and tired. All three of them knew it couldn't be that long before she passed on. The brothers had taken to spending as much time as possible with Stephanie. She was especially clinging to Sam.

They sat on the couch together with Stephanie in the middle, watching _Poltergeist_. Stephanie looked down at Sam's stomach and placed a hand on it. Sam looked down and placed a hand over hers. Stephanie smiled, tears forming in her eyes.

"Thank you," she told him.

"For what?" asked Sam.

"For keeping him," said Stephanie. "For not leaving him. You could've had him killed, but you chose to take him in."

"I could never have killed him," said Sam.

Stephanie looked up at him, tears falling down her face. "I'll tell my husband what wonderful parents our son has. How they protect him…care for him…love him…"

Sam looked up at Dean, asking for permission. Dean nodded and smiled. Sam looked back down at Stephanie. "Tell your husband that your son's name is John Michael Collins."

Stephanie smiled. "John…such a good name…strong. What's it mean?"

"It was our father's name," Sam explained. "He…died saving our lives."

"I love it," said Stephanie. "Thank you for giving him Michael's name also."

"And guess what?" said Dean. "It's my middle name, too."

"Really?" said Stephanie as she looked at Dean. "That's wonderful." She smiled as she leaned back against the couch.

"How 'bout some ice cream?" suggested Dean.

Stephanie smiled. "Perfect."

Dean stood up, facing them. "Chocolate? Whip cream?"

"Please," said Stephanie.

"Sam?"

"Applesauce and pickles," Sam told him.

"Oh, gross. I am not fixing that."

Sam and Stephanie smiled at each other and looked back at Dean. Irked by the silence, Dean turned back around to see the two of them giving the puppy-dog look.

Dean growled in annoyance. "Fine! I'll do it! You've been teaching her that, haven't you?"

"And you fell right into it," said Sam.

"Yeah, yeah," said Dean.

Dean headed for the kitchen, pulling the gallon of ice cream from the freezer. He scooped three generous portions into three bowls. He covered his and Stephanie's helpings with chocolate syrup and some whip cream. He then reluctantly dumped some applesauce on Sam's helping, topping it with several sliced pickles. He headed back to the living room, balancing the third bowl on his arm against his chest. Stephanie grabbed the balanced bowl before it could fall, settling it on her lap. Dean handed the disgusting bowl to Sam, who proceeded to dig his spoon into it and shoving a spoonful of ice cream, applesauce and pickle into his mouth.

"You and your cravings," Dean muttered as he sat next to Stephanie.

"You're just jealous," Sam teased as he dipped a pickle in the ice cream, sticking it in his mouth and closing his eyes in pleasure.

"Yeah, sure," said Dean. "Whatever floats your boat."

* * *

Sam felt a jab to his shoulder and subtly clasped the knife under his pillow. As the jabbing continued, Sam grabbed the person by the wrist, slamming the knife to their throat and catching a look at a terrified face.

"Stephanie!" Sam exclaimed. He quickly set the knife on the night table and released her wrist. "I'm so sorry. Are you okay?"

"No…" Stephanie whispered weakly. "Sam…it's time…"

Sam looked up at her pale, exhausted face, and his eyes widened. "Come here."

Stephanie climbed into the bed next to Sam as he turned onto his side to face her. He put his right arm under her body, flattening his palm onto her head and holding her close. He draped his left arm over her stomach and put his head against hers.

"I'm right here," Sam whispered. "I'm not going anywhere." Sam lifted his head to look over Stephanie's body. "Dean." There was no response from the other bed. "Dean!" Still nothing. Sam looked down at Stephanie. "I swear, that guy could sleep through a nuclear bomb."

Stephanie gave a weak laugh. Sam reached his left arm to the night table and grabbed his cell phone, launching it towards Dean's head. Dean bolted up in bed, swinging his arm sleepily.

"Wha…" started Dean.

"Dean," said Sam.

Dean turned to see a weak Stephanie in Sam's arms. His eyes widened at Sam, and Sam gave a sad nod. Dean came over and sat down next to Stephanie, his back against the headboard. Sam settled his head next to Stephanie's again as Dean laid a hand on Stephanie's shoulder next to Sam's arm. They listened to Stephanie's labored breaths. Stephanie turned her head and laid a kiss on Dean's hand, smiling up at him. She then turned and laid a kiss on Sam's cheek, smiling at him also.

"My son…" Stephanie whispered. "My son…"

Sam opened his eyes, looking at Stephanie. After a moment of thinking, Sam lowered the blankets to his waist and lifted up his shirt, exposing his swollen belly. He took Stephanie's hand and placed it on his stomach, covering her hand with his. Stephanie smiled at him and Sam smiled back.

"Johnnie…" Stephanie whispered.

When they both felt a jolt, they looked at each other and began smiling and laughing.

"What?" asked Dean.

Sam looked up at him. "He kicked."

"Here…feel…" Stephanie said, reaching for Dean's hand, but too weak to reach it.

Sam looked up at Dean uncomfortably, but then nodded his head. Dean reached his hand out so Stephanie could reach it. Stephanie weakly grasped it and pulled it onto Sam's stomach. After a moment, Dean felt a sharp jab underneath his hand.

Dean smiled, stunned. "That's amazing…"

Stephanie looked up at Dean. "Take care of my boy…both of them..." She nodded in Sam's direction. Sam smiled as Dean stared at her.

"I promise," Dean told her. "With every breath in my body, I promise."

Stephanie turned to look at Sam. "Watch after my son…love him like he's never been..."

Sam sadly smiled, tears welling in the corners of his eyes. "I will."

Stephanie glanced between the two of them. "I love you…both of you…" She smiled serenely. "Michael and I will look in on you two from time to time…make sure you're doing right by our boy…" Sam and Dean laughed, and Stephanie joined in. She quickly cut off, coughing weakly. Sam stroked her face with his left hand to soothe her. "From all this hunting stuff you've told me about…I know that I can promise you that…when you visit my grave…" tears began creeping down Sam's face, "I'll be listening and watching…Promise me you'll bring Johnnie by sometime…"

"We will," Sam told her, crying. "Every day."

Stephanie smiled. "You don't have to…not that often…"

Dean spoke up. "Every year…on Johnnie's birthday."

"I'd like that…" Stephanie said. She placed her hand back on Sam's belly, desperate to be near her son. "I'll see you in a couple months, Johnnie…" She looked back up at the brothers. "Thank you both…so much…"

Stephanie closed her eyes as her hand slipped from Sam's belly and to the sheets. Sam clutched her head, pulling her body towards him as best he could. Sam cried into her hair as Dean placed his hand on Sam's head now. Sam laid Stephanie back down on the bed and looked up at Dean, surprised to see tears on his face. They looked at each other and then back down at Stephanie, realizing they were on their own now.


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter Ten

**Remember, my version of "Hunted" had Sam never meeting Ava Wilson.**

**Four months later…**

Sam and Dean pulled up to a diner in the middle of nowhere. It was a rainy night and mud was everywhere. Sam was due any day now, and boy, was he big! It felt weird to look in the mirror and see that huge belly. They had buried Stephanie next to her husband in Winfield. They visited her every one in a while, but it had been a while since the last time.

Dean parked the car and turned it off. "Alright, I'll get the food. You'll freak the locals and I know you won't bring me my pie."

"Just as long as you don't get extra onions this time," Sam told him. Dean just smiled at him. "Dude, I'm the one that has to ride in the car with your extra onions. And the smell makes me nauseous."

Dena rolled his eyes. "Fine. Wait here."

Dean climbed out of the Impala and entered the small diner. There was only one other patron. Dean walked up to the counter.

"What can I get for you?" asked the waiter.

"How 'bout a bacon cheeseburger without onions, order of fries, Caesar salad, a coffee, and an orange juice," Dean spouted off. "Oh, and two orders of apple pie."

"Coming right up."

In ten minutes, Dean had two bags of food and a drink carrier with their drinks in it, and was heading back to the Impala. Halfway there, he noticed that Sam wasn't in the car. Dean set the food on the hood, looking around.

"Sam?" Dean called. Nothing. "Sammy!" Still no response. Dean opened the passenger door to find a line of sulfur on the door window. "Sulfur…"

_The demon…it got him…_

Dean straightened up, glancing around. "Sam!"

* * *

Sam woke up in the middle of nowhere, lying on the ground. He sat up, holding his swollen stomach. A few abandoned buildings lined the street. He stood and took out his phone, but got no cell reception. He continued to search the deserted town but didn't find much. Most of the buildings were broken down or locked from the outside. Suddenly, Sam heard a creaking noise from nearby. He grabbed a plank of wood, ready to fight, when Andy Gallagher turned the corner. He jumped back, startled.

"Andy?" said Sam.

"Sam!" said Andy in relief. His gaze drifted down to Sam's swollen stomach. "What's going on with your stomach?"

"Uh, it's complicated…" Sam started.

"You're pregnant?" asked Andy. "What the hell?"

"Okay, look," said Sam. "This woman was dying of cancer, and she was pregnant, so she did a spell that put her child in my body. She died four months ago. What are you doing here?"

"I don't know," said Andy. "What are you doing here?!"

"I don't know," said Sam.

"Where are we?!"

"Andy, look, calm down," said Sam as he tossed the plank of wood to the side.

"I can't calm down! I just woke up in freaking Frontierland!"

"What's the last thing you remember?"

"Honestly? My fourth bong load. It was weird. All of a sudden, there was this really intense smell. Like, uh…"

"Like sulfur?"

"How did you know that?"

Sam looked down at his feet. "Dean."

"Your brother—is he here?"

"I don't know where he is. I don't know if he's…"

Suddenly, they heard a woman screaming in the distance. They approached another deserted building. She was locked inside, banging on the door for help.

"Hello?" Sam called.

"Help me! Help me, please!"

"Okay, I'm here," said Sam. "We're gonna get you out, all right? Just hold on a second."

"Please!"

Sam grabbed a large rock and smashed the padlock on the door. "All right, one second."

"Please!"

Sam unlocked the door and a young woman stepped out. "Hey, are you okay?"

"I don't know," the woman said. She looked down at his stomach, eyes wide.

"What's your name?" asked Sam.

"Ava…" the woman sniffled. "Ava Wilson…"

"Ava, my name is Sam Winchester."

Ava noticed Andy and looked at him, confused.

"Hey. Andy. Also freaking out."

"Okay," said Ava. She looked at Sam. "What's happening?"

"I don't really know yet," said Sam. "But I know one thing: I'm pretty sure I know what the three of us have in common."

"Hello?" a man called. "Is anybody there?"

"Maybe more than three," said Sam. They ran to the side of another building. The man was accompanied by a blonde girl. "Hello? Hey! Hey, you guys all right?"

"I think so," said the man.

"I'm Sam."

"I'm Jake," said the man.

"Lily," said the blonde.

"Are there anymore of you?" asked Sam.

"No," said Jake.

"What's going on with your stomach?" asked Lily.

Sam looked at them. "Okay, uh…A woman, Stephanie Collins, had cancer and she was dying, but she didn't want her baby to die with her. So, she did a spell that transferred her baby to me so the baby could be born. She died four months ago."

"How did we even get here?" asked Lily. "A minute ago, I was in San Diego."

"Well, if it makes you feel any better, I went to sleep last night in Afghanistan," said Jake.

"Let me take a wild guess: you two are both twenty-three?" asked Sam. "We all are. And we all have abilities."

"What?" said Jake.

"It started a little over a year ago?" said Sam. "You found you could do things? Things you didn't think were possible?" They both nodded. "I have visions. I see things before they happen."

"Yeah," said Ava. "Me, too."

"Yeah, and I can put thoughts into people's heads," said Andy. "Like, make them do stuff. But don't worry, I don't think it works on you guys. Oh, but get this—I've been practicing. Training my brain, like meditation. So now, it's not just thoughts I can beam out, but images, too. Like, anything I want. Bam! People see it. This one guy I know—total dick, right? I used it on him: gay porn. All hours of the day." He laughed. "It was just like…you should have seen the look on his face." The other four looked completely horrified. "Uh…okay."

"So, you go, 'Simon says give me your wallet,' and they do?" said Lily. She looked at Sam. "You have visions? That's great! I'd kill for something like that."

"Lily, listen, it's okay," said Sam.

"No," said Lily. "It's not. I touch people? Their hearts stop. I can barely leave my house. My life's not exactly improved. So, screw you. I just wanna go home."

"And what, we don't?" said Jake.

"You know what, don't talk to me like that—"

"Hey, guys, please," said Sam. "Look, whether we like it or not, we're all here, and so we all have to deal with this."

"Who brought us here?" asked Andy.

"It's less of a 'who,'" said Sam. "It's more of a 'what.'"

"What does that mean?" asked Ava.

Sam sighed. "It's a demon."

* * *

Bobby and Dean stood by their cars on the side of the road, poring over a map.

"This is it," said Bobby. "All demonic signs and omens over the past month."

"Are you joking?" said Dean. "There's nothing here."

"Exactly," said Bobby.

"Well, come on, there's gotta be something. What about the normal, low-level stuff? You know, exorcisms, that kind of thing."

"That's what I'm telling you: there's nothing. It's completely quiet."

"Well, how are we supposed to look for Sam? What, do we just close our eyes and point?" His phone rang, and he answered it. "Ash, what do you got?"

"Okay, listen, it's a big negatory on Sam," said Ash.

"Oh, come on, man!" said Dean. "You've gotta give us something. We're looking at a three thousand-mile haystack here."

"Listen, Dean, I did find something."

"Well, what?"

"I can't talk over this line, dude."

"Come on, I don't have time for this!"

"Make time, okay? Because this—" Dean heard him talk to someone walking by. "Not only does this almost definitely help you find your brother, this is…it's huge. So get here. Now." He hung up.

"I guess we're going to the Roadhouse," said Dean. "Come on."

* * *

"So, we're soldiers in a demon war to bring on the Apocalypse?" said Jake.

"When you put it like that—" said Sam.

"And we've been picked?" asked Jake.

"Yes," said Sam.

"Why us?" asked Jake.

"I'm not sure, okay?" said Sam. "But look, I just know—"

"Sam, I'm sorry," said Ava. "Psychics and spoon-bending is one thing, but demons?"

"Look, I know it sounds crazy, but—" said Sam.

"It doesn't just sound it," said Jake.

"I don't really care what you think, okay?" said Sam. "If we're all gathered here together, then that means it's starting and that we've gotta—"

"The only thing I've gotta do is stay away from wackjobs, okay?" said Jake. "I've heard enough. I'm better off on my own. FYI, so are you."

"Jake, hold on," said Sam. "Jake!"

Jake ignored him and continued walking until he was alone in the town. Sam looked back at the others until he heard a faint giggle, like from a little girl.

"Oh, crap," said Sam.

"What?" asked Andy.

"Wait here," said Sam.

He darted after Jake as fast as his pregnant stomach would allow. He found Jake in a schoolhouse room, a demon approaching him. Sam entered the building, grabbing an iron poker and hitting the girl with it. She dissolved into a cloud of black smoke, which exited the schoolroom. The other three ducked as the demon blew out.

"Just so you know?" said Sam. "That was a demon. Now, that thing—I'm not sure, but I think it was an Acheri. A demon that disguises itself as a little girl. That still doesn't tell us where we are. Andy, are you with me or what?"

"Give me a minute," said Andy. "I'm still working through, 'Demons are real.'"

They walked up to a well that had a bell hanging from it. There was an engraving on the bell.

"I've seen that bell before," said Sam. "I think I know where we are now: Cold Oak, South Dakota. A town so haunted, every single resident fled."

"Swell," said Ava. "Good to know we're somewhere so historical."

"Why in the world would that demon or whatever put us here?" asked Lily.

"I'm wondering the same thing," said Sam.

"You know what?" said Lily. "It doesn't matter. Clearly, the only sane thing to do here is get the hell out of Dodge."

"Wait, hold on," said Sam. "Lily, the only way out is through miles of woods."

"Beats hanging out with demons."

"Lily, look, we don't know what's going on yet. I mean, we don't even know how many of them are out there right now."

"Yeah, he's right," said Jake. "We should—"

"Don't say 'we!'" said Lily. "I'm not part of 'we.' I have nothing in common with any of you."

"Okay, look, I know—" said Sam.

"You don't know anything!" Lily paused. "I accidentally touched my girlfriend."

"I'm sorry," said Sam.

"Whatever," said Lily. "I feel like I'm in a nightmare, and it just keeps getting worse and worse."

"I've lost people, too," said Sam. "I have a brother out there right now that could be dead, for all I know. We're all in bad shape. But I'm telling you, the best way out of this is to stick together."

"Fine," said Lily.

Sam nodded, and the group continued looking around the town. "We're looking for iron, silver, salt—any kind of weapon."

"Salt is a weapon?" asked Jake.

"It's a brave new world," said Sam.

"Well, hopefully there's food in your world, because I'm frigging starving," said Andy.

They entered a house on the side of the street.

* * *

Dean and Bobby turned the corner to the Roadhouse. When they got there, however, the entire building had burned to the ground.

"What the hell?" said Dean.

They got out of the car and began walking among the debris. Every single part of the Roadhouse had been destroyed.

"Oh, my gosh…" said Bobby. (A/N: Sorry, I don't take God's name in vain.)

"You see Ellen?" asked Dean.

"No. No Ash, either."

Dean suddenly bent down and saw Ash's watch in the pile of rubble. He pulled on it and saw it was still attached to Ash's very burnt corpse. "Oh, Ash, damn it!"

* * *

Sam was searching one of the abandoned houses. He found a knife and picked it up. He turned back to Ava, who was massaging her head.

"Hey, you alright?" asked Sam.

"Yeah, I'm just…I don't know, a little dizzy," said Ava.

"Are you sure it's not some kind of—" said Sam.

"What?" said Ava. "Some kind of freaky vision thing? No, more like I'd kill for a sandwich. I haven't eaten since…well, who knows? No, don't worry. I'm fine. Except for every single thing that's happening."

"You guys!" Andy called from the hall. "I found something!" Sam and Ava joined him and Jake. Andy was holding up two bags. "Salt!"

"That's great, Andy," said Sam. "Now, we all can…" Sam noticed they were down by one. "Where's Lily?"

"Lily?" Ava called.

"Lily!" Sam shouted.

They suddenly heard the little girl giggling nearby. The four of them walked outside to find Lily hanging from a noose at the top of a water tower.

"Oh, my gosh!" said Ava. "Okay, that's officially—Sam, she's dead! She's dead! You said we were chosen for a reason. That is not chosen! That's killed! Okay, we have to get out of here."

"Stop," said Sam.

"Yeah, I second that emotion," said Andy.

"Not sure that's an option," said Jake.

"What?" asked Ava.

"Lily was trying to leave," said Sam. "The demon's not gonna let us get away that easy. We've gotta gear up for the next attack."

"Oh, gear up?" said Ava.

"Yeah," said Sam.

"Okay, well, I'm not a soldier," said Ava. "I can't do that!"

"Well, if you wanna stay alive, you're gonna have to," said Sam. "Let's go."

"I'll get her down," said Jake.

Ava entered the house as Sam stopped at the doorway with Andy.

"You know, I was just thinking about how much Dean would help right now," said Sam. "I'd give my arm for a working phone."

Andy realized something. "You know, you may not need one. I've never tried it long-distance before, but do you have anything of Dean's on you? Like, something he touched?"

Sam searched his pockets, pulling out a small piece of paper. "Uh…I've got a receipt. Would that work?"

"Yeah," said Andy, taking the receipt. He looked at the signature on the receipt. "D. Hasselhoff?"

"Yeah, that's Dean's signature," said Sam. "It's hard to explain."

"Alright."

* * *

Dean and Bobby headed back to the Impala.

"This is…" Bobby trailed off.

"What the hell did Ash know?" said Dean. "We've got no way of knowing where Ellen is. Or if she's even alive. We've got no clue what Ash was gonna tell us. Now, how the hell are we gonna find Sam?"

"We'll find him," said Bobby. Suddenly, Dean clutched his head in pain. "Dean?" Dean groaned and doubled over. He caught an image of a bell very quickly. "What was that?"

"I don't know," said Dean. "A headache?"

"You get headaches like that a lot?"

"No. Must be the stress." Dean chuckled. "I could have sworn I saw something."

"What do you mean? Like a vision? Like what Sam gets?"

"What? No!"

"I'm just saying."

"Come on, I'm not some psychic."

Suddenly, the vision came back. Dean fell against the car in pain. He saw another image, this time of Sam.

"Dean? Dean! Are you with me?"

"Yeah, I think so. I saw Sam. I saw him, Bobby."

"It was a vision."

"Yeah. I don't know how, but yeah. Whew. That was about as fun as getting kicked in the jewels."

"What else did you see?"

"Uh… there was a bell."

"What kind of bell?"

"Like a big bell with some kind of engraving on it, I don't know."

"Engraving?"

"Yeah."

"Was it a tree? Like, an oak tree?"

"Yeah, exactly."

Bobby smiled. "I know where Sam is."

* * *

Andy and Sam followed Ava into the house. As Sam sat down, he felt that his seat was wet. He looked down and saw the growing wet spot on the crotch of his pants.

"Oh, you gotta be kidding me," Sam moaned.

"What?" asked Andy.

"This officially wins the 'worst timing ever' award," Sam told him. He looked up at him and Ava. "My water just broke."


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter Eleven

"Whoa, what?" said Ava.

"The baby's coming," said Sam. "Now."

"What do we do?" asked Andy.

"Uh, blankets, pillows; anything that I can lean against," said Sam. "And some water from that well out front. We're gonna need it."

Andy dashed out the front door as Ava rushed around the house for blankets. Jake came running in a moment later.

"What's happening?" he asked. "Andy looked worried."

"I'm going into labor," Sam told him.

"Well, it's your lucky day," said Jake. "'Cause I'm an army medic."

Sam smiled. "Lucky me." His smile quickly vanished as his first contraction hit. "Oh, my gosh…"

Jake knelt beside Sam, placing a hand on his back. "Breathe through it." Sam took deep breaths. "That's it. Almost done." The contraction passed and Sam relaxed.

"Holy crap," Sam muttered. "And they're supposed to get worse? Damn!"

Andy came in with a bucket of water, and Ava appeared with some blankets.

"This was all I could find," Ava told him. "You can lean against them, but I'm not so sure you should sit on them, 'cause they're filthy."

"Jackets," said Jake. "He can sit on our jackets."

Jake helped Sam out of his jacket as Andy and Ava took their jackets off. Andy even took off the hoodie he had on over his shirt. Ava piled the blankets up against a wall as Andy took their jackets and laid them out in front of the blankets. Jake helped Sam stand up and guided him to the makeshift gurney. He lowered Sam to the floor, helping him adjust until he was comfortable.

"Thanks, guys," said Sam.

"No problem," said Andy.

"It's gonna be a long night, folks," said Jake. "Be ready. And I think you better tell me every detail about that spell she did."

Sam took a deep breath as he prepared to tell them the last seven months worth of their lives.

* * *

**Ten hours later…**

The contractions were unbearable and Sam was getting close. Andy knelt next to Sam, a hand on his shoulder to help soothe him.

"Alright, Sam, let's get those jeans off," said Jake. Sam looked up at him, horrified. "You said it yourself: the spell lets you deliver normally, so we have to take the pants off."

"Here," said Andy. He took Sam's jacket from under Sam's feet and laid it over his legs, covering his waist to his knees.

"Thanks, Andy," said Sam.

Jake pulled Sam's boots off as Sam unbuttoned his jeans. Andy grabbed onto the jacket to hold it in place as Sam slid his pants down his legs, taking his boxers with them. Sam kicked the jeans off his feet, and Jake put them aside. Another contraction hit, causing Sam to grab his stomach in pain and moan.

"Is it alright if I check?" asked Jake.

Figuring he didn't really have a choice and Jake had medical training, Sam nodded. Jake lifted the edge of the jacket to look.

"Alright, you're almost there, Sam," said Jake.

"Ugh…when is Dean getting here?" asked Sam. "He'd want to be here…"

"He'll make it," Andy assured.

"I hope so," said Sam.

Ava stepped over to the window, turning to face Sam with her arms behind her. As she leaned away from the window, Sam saw salt falling from the windowsill.

"Hey, what are you doing?!" said Sam.

Ava looked at him as the other two turned to look at her. "What?"

"Why would you break the salt line?" asked Sam, wincing in pain.

"What?" said Ava. "You don't think that I—"

"And that headache you got?" said Sam, putting the pieces together. "Right when the demon got Lily."

"What are you trying to say?" said Ava.

"What happened to you?"

"Nothing!" said Ava. Sam just stared her down, trying to ignore the pain. Ava's face changed as she dropped the act. "Had you going though, didn't I? Yeah, I've been here a long time. And not alone, either. People just keep showing up. Children, like us. Batches of three or four at a time."

"You killed them? All of them?"

"I'm the undefeated heavyweight champ."

"Oh, my God."

"Don't think God has much to do with this, Sam."

"How could you?"

"I had no choice. It was me or them. After a while, it was easy. It was even kind of fun. I just stopped fighting it."

"Fighting what?"

"Who we are, Sam. If you just quit your hand-wringing and open yourself up, you have no idea what you can do. The learning curve is so fast, it's crazy, the switches that just flip in your brain. I can't believe I started out just having dreams. Do you know what I can do now?"

"Control demons."

"Ah, you are quick on the draw." Ava put her hands to her head. "I'm sorry, Sam. But it's over."

The cloud of black smoke appeared at the window, about to enter it. As Ava was distracted by summoning the demon, Jake jumped up behind her and twisted her neck, killing her instantly. The smoke dissipated and left. Jake fixed the salt line.

"Aah!" Sam yelled as another contraction hit. Andy resumed his position next to Sam as Jake placed himself at Sam's feet.

"SAM!" someone yelled from outside.

Sam's eyes widened. "Dean."

"SAMMY!" Dean yelled again, searching for his brother.

"Andy…" Sam muttered.

Andy sprang up, bolting out the door. "DEAN!"

Dean and an older man spun around. "Andy?"

"Dean, quick!" Andy pleaded. "It's Sam!"

Fearing the worst, Dean rushed after Andy with Bobby close behind. Dean burst into the house to find Sam against the wall, a jacket draped over his bare waist and panting heavily.

"Oh, my gosh…" muttered Dean as he fell beside Sam, putting a hand on his back. "When did you go into labor?"

"Just after Andy sent you that vision," Sam panted.

"Andy sent…" said Dean. "Well, that explains a lot." Sam yelled in pain again. "It's okay, Sammy. I'm here now." He spotted Ava lying dead on the floor. "Who's the girl?"

"Ava," Andy explained. "She tried to kill us."

"Okay," said Dean. He took off his jacket and handed it to Jake. "And you are?"

"Jake," he answered. "Army medic."

"Good," said Dean. "Use that to wrap the baby in. Bobby, gimme your vest." Bobby complied, and Dean stuffed it behind Sam's head; it make the perfect pillow.

Jake took another look. "Okay, it's time."

"Finally," Sam moaned. "Why would women voluntarily do this more than once?"

Dean laughed. "Who knows."

"Oh, gosh!" Sam leaned forward as best he could.

Dean placed a hand on Sam's back as he held his other hand out for Sam. Sam quickly grasped onto it, squeezing it tightly. Sam began pushing as a contraction hit him. He groaned in pain as he breathed through it. He could feel the baby slowly inching its way down the cervix. It was sheer agony. As the contraction passed, Sam collapsed against the blankets.

"That's it," Sam groaned. "I'm swearing off sex."

Dean laughed. "You're not gonna have to worry about getting pregnant again, Sam."

"I don't care!" Sam yelled as the pain hit him again.

He leaned forward, pushing with all his might. It was overwhelming, and took all of Sam's strength. He could feel the crown of the baby's head breaching him as it edged out. He collapsed again as the contraction passed.

"I see the head," said Jake.

"I can't…" Sam breathed, tears falling out of his eyes. "I can't…"

"Yes, you can, Sammy," Dean told him.

"It's too much…" Sam panted. "I can't…"

"Yes, you can, Sam," came a voice from the corner.

Sam looked up to see a familiar face standing in the corner of the room. "Stephanie?"

Stephanie smiled. "Hi, Sam. I promised I'd look out for you two."

"How are you here?" asked Dean.

"As long as my son is alive, I'm alive through him," said Stephanie. "By the way, I appreciate the visits, guys."

Sam yelled in pain, but was too exhausted to try to push. Stephanie approached him and sat down next to him opposite of Dean.

"Sam, you can do it," Stephanie told him.

"I can't…" Sam panted. "It hurts…"

"I know it does," said Stephanie. "But soon, you'll have a little boy of your own in your arms." She placed a hand on Sam's face. "Johnnie needs you, Sam. He needs you to be strong…I need you to be strong."

Sam nodded as another wave of pain hit him. He leaned forward, pushing with all his strength. He felt his skin tear as the baby slid out to his shoulders. Sam collapsed against the blankets, breathing heavily. Sweat was now pouring down his face.

"That's good, Sammy," said Dean. "You're almost done. Almost there."

"Couple more pushes, Sam," said Jake.

Sam leaned forward again, pushing. The baby slid halfway out before Sam collapsed.

"Oh, come on, kid," Sam moaned. "Give me a break here."

Stephanie and Dean laughed as Jake prepared to pull the baby out.

"Okay, Sam," said Jake. "One last push should do it."

"Come on, Sammy," said Dean. "I know you can do it."

Sam leaned forward, pushing once again. A yell broke free from his throat as the baby slid the rest of the way out. Relieved, Sam collapsed against the blankets, exhausted. The pain receded as crying filled the room.

"Here he is," said Jake, wrapping Johnnie in Dean's jacket. He leaned forward, placing the baby in Sam's arms. Sam smiled down at him, amazed that he was finally holding him. Stephanie smiled down at her son as Jake cut the umbilical cord with the knife from Sam's pocket.

"He's got Michael's eyes," said Stephanie.

"He does?" asked Sam weakly.

"Yeah," said Stephanie.

"And your smile," said Dean.

Stephanie smiled at that. "I love you…all three of you." She took one last look at her son. "I'll be seeing you around, Johnnie." With that, she disappeared in a flash of white light.

"He's amazing," said Sam, his eyes starting to slide shut.

"Here," said Dean. He took Johnnie from Sam. "How 'bout you get some rest, huh?"

"Okay," said Sam as he began to drift off. He looked up at the door where Bobby was, spotting a man with yellow eyes in the doorway.

"Bobby!" Sam called. "Behind you!"

"Howdy, Sam," said Yellow-Eyes. Bobby didn't respond.

"I'm dreaming," said Sam.

"What do you say you and I take a little walk?" said Yellow-Eyes. Sam got up, finding it surprisingly easy to stand. Of course, it was easy; he was dreaming. Yellow-Eyes led Sam outside. "So, Sam, busy night, huh? Gotta say, good job with the kid." Sam didn't respond. "You're awfully quiet, Sam. You're not mad at me, are you?"

"I'm gonna tear you to shreds, I swear to—" started Sam.

Yellow-Eyes chuckled. "When you wake up, tiger, you give it your best shot."

"Don't you dare hurt my brother."

"Quit worrying about Dean. I'd worry more about yourself."

"Why? You gonna kill me?"

"I'm trying to help you. That's why we're talking. You're the one I'm rooting for."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Welcome to the Miss America pageant. Why do you think you're here? This is a competition. Only one of you crazy kids is gonna make it out of here alive."

"I thought we were supposed to be—"

"Soldiers in a coming war? That's true. You are. But here's the thing: I don't need soldiers. I need soldier. I just need the one."

"Why?"

"Well, I couldn't just come out and say that, could I, Sam? I had to let everyone think they had a fighting chance. But what I need is a leader."

"To lead who?"

"Oh, I've already got my army. Or I will soon, anyway."

"You son of a bitch."

"Honestly, I'm surprised you hadn't guessed. I mean, why do you think so many children flamed out already? Max Miller and Andy's brother, what's-his-name—they weren't strong enough. I'm looking for the best and brightest of your generation."

"My generation?"

"Well, there's other generations, but let's just worry about yours. That's why I'm here, Sam. I wanna give you the inside track. You're tough. You're smart. You're well-trained, thanks to your daddy. Sam—Sammy—you're my favorite."

"You ruined my life. You killed everyone I love."

"The cost of doing business, I'm afraid. I mean, sweet little Jessica—she just had to die. You were all set to marry that little blonde thing, become a tax lawyer with two kids, a beer gut, and a little McMansion in the suburbs. I needed you sharp on the road, honing your skills. Your gifts."

"What about my mom?"

"That was bad luck."

"Bad luck?"

"She walked in on us. Wrong place, wrong time."

"What does that mean?"

"It wasn't about her. It was about you. It's always been about you."

"What?"

Yellow-Eyes stared at him. "Well…okay. You caught me in a charitable mood. I'll show you."

Yellow-Eyes snapped his fingers, and Sam found himself in his nursery from when he was six months old, standing next to the demon.

"Look familiar?" said Yellow-Eyes. "It should." Sam looked down at his six-month-old self crying in his crib while the Yellow-Eyed Demon of the past stood over him. Sam made to charge at the demon standing over his crib, but Present Yellow-Eyes held him back. "Relax, Sam, this is just a hi-def instant replay. Enjoy the show."

Mary entered the room, looking tired. "John?"

"Mom!" said Sam.

"Is he hungry?" asked Mary.

"Shh," said Past Yellow-Eyes.

"Okay," said Mary. She left the room.

"Wait, Mom," said Sam. "Mom!"

"What did I just tell you, Sam?" said Present Yellow-Eyes. "She can't hear you. This isn't real."

They watched as the Past Yellow-Eyes sliced his own wrist with his nail. He dripped some of the blood onto Baby Sam's mouth.

"What the hell are you doing to me?" said Sam.

"Better than mother's milk," said Present Yellow-Eyes.

"Does this mean I have…demon blood in me?" said Sam. The demon chuckled. "Answer me!"

Mary suddenly rushed back into the room. Past Yellow-Eyes turned to her, revealing his yellow eyes.

"It's you," said Mary.

"She knew you," said Sam.

Mary began to walk closer, but Past Yellow-Eyes forced her against the wall. They watched as she slowly moved up the wall, until she was pinned to the ceiling.

"No!" Sam yelled. "No!"

"I don't think you wanna see the rest of this," said Yellow-Eyes. He snapped his fingers again, and Sam jolted awake on the floor of the house.

"Hey, Sam," said Dean. Sam turned to see him sitting at the table with the baby in his arms. "Nice nap?"


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter Twelve

"We got a problem," said Sam.

"What?" asked Dean as he adjusted Johnnie in his arms.

"The Yellow-Eyed Demon just came to me in a dream," Sam explained.

"He did?" asked Dean, suddenly on red alert.

"He told me that bringing all the psychics here is part of a fight to the death sort of thing," said Sam. "Last man standing wins."

"So he wants you to kill each other?" asked Dean.

"Yep."

"But I thought he wanted an army."

"He just wants someone to lead an army. He only needs one of us."

"Okay, so you, Andy and Jake are the only ones left?"

"Looks like. And that's not all."

"Oh, gosh, what could get worse?"

"He showed me what really happened the night Mom died."

Dean looked up at him. "He did? What…what happened?"

"Yellow-Eyes was standing over my crib when Mom walked in. At first, she thought it was Dad, so she left. That's when the demon…sliced his wrist and…bled into my mouth."

Dean's eyes widened as he stared at his brother. "He what?"

"That's why I get visions. That's why we all have psychic abilities…we have demon blood in us. And that's not all."

"There's more?"

"When Mom rushed back into the room, she recognized the demon…She knew him. That's when he killed her. She didn't die because the demon was after her or even because he was after me. He killed her because she interrupted us."

"Well, that isn't good," said Dean. "Why would Mom know him?"

"No idea," said Sam as he sat up, feeling much better. "Did you stitch me up?"

"No, uh, it healed itself after you passed out," said Dean. "Must've been the spell undoing itself."

Sam grabbed his jeans and slid them on. He took the jacket off his lap and put it on, standing up. "Come on, we need to get out of here. Where are the others?"

"They're outside, burying Ava," said Dean.

"We need to leave," said Sam. "Here." Sam held his arms out for Johnnie, and Dean handed him over. Sam cuddled the infant, swaddled in Dean's jacket, to his chest, protecting him. Dean grabbed his shotgun as they made their way out of the house. Jake, Andy and Bobby were making their way back to them.

"We have to get out of here," said Sam, holding Johnnie as Dean kept his gun aimed into the dark.

"But the Acheri demon…" said Andy.

"No, no, no," said Sam. "Ava was summoning it, controlling it. "It shouldn't come back now that she's dead. We've gotta go."

"No 'we,' Sam," said Jake. The others turned to look at him. "Only one of us is getting out of here. I'm sorry."

"What?" said Sam.

"I had a vision," said Jake. "That Yellow-Eyed Demon or whatever it was, he talked to me. He told me how it was."

"No, Jake, listen," said Sam. "You can't listen to him."

"Sam, he's not letting us go. Only one. Now, if we don't play along, he'll kill us all. Now, I like you, man. I do. And you have a family now. And Andy, you're great, too. But do the math here. What good's it do for all three of us to die? Now, I can get out of here. I get close to the demon, I can kill the bastard."

"You come with us, we can kill him together," said Andy.

"How do I know you two won't turn on me?" asked Jake.

"We won't," said Sam.

"I don't know that," said Jake.

"Okay, look." Sam took the knife out of his pocket and tossed it onto the ground, cradling the baby closer. "Just come with us, Jake. Don't do this. Don't play into what it wants."

Jake placed his weapon on the ground as well. Sam looked very relieved until Jake punched Andy suddenly. Andy went flying across the field and crashed into the ground. Sam turned away from Jake, holding Johnnie to his chest. Dean charged at Jake, but Jake placed an uppercut to his jaw, sending him flying. Bobby pointed his gun at Jake, but Jake dodged the bullet and rushed Bobby, pushing him to the ground. Andy climbed to his feet as Sam placed the baby on the house's porch, making sure he was safe.

Sam approached Jake, punching him in the gut. Jake backhanded Sam, knocking him to the ground. Jake turned to Andy, socking him in the gut and placing a hand around his throat. As Andy began to choke, Sam slammed his fist into Jake's head. As Jake let Andy go, Sam kicked him in the stomach. Jake flew to the ground, knocked out. Bobby and Dean got up, looking at Sam.

"You okay, Andy?" asked Sam.

"Yeah, I'm good," Andy choked out.

"Sam?" called Dean.

"Yeah, I'm good," said Sam.

"Where's Johnnie?" asked Dean.

"The porch," said Sam.

Dean turned and picked the baby up, checking to make sure he was okay. He looked back up at Sam, his eyes widening. "Sam, look out!"

Sam felt the prick of a knife on his lower back as Andy tackled Jake. Sam dropped to his knees.

"NO!" Dean yelled as he rushed towards Sam. "Sammy!"

"It's okay, Dean," said Sam. "He just nicked me." He looked over to see Andy had gotten the knife from Jake. Jake scrambled to his feet, running into the woods. "Let's hope that's the last time we see him."

"Let's get out of here," said Dean.

The five of them headed back to the Impala. Dean handed Johnnie to Sam and climbed into the driver's seat. Sam got in the passenger seat as Bobby and Andy got in the back.

"Where we headed?" asked Sam.

"Bobby's place, I guess," said Dean.

* * *

Dean, Sam, Andy and Bobby sat in Bobby's living room, pouring over books. Sam cradled Johnnie in his arms as the infant sucked his thumb. The kid was definitely growing on Sam. Sam found him absolutely adorable.

"Well, I found something," said Bobby. "But I'm not sure what the hell it means."

"What is it?" asked Sam.

"Demonic omens...like a frigging tidal wave," said Bobby. "Cattle deaths. Lightning storms. They skyrocketed from out of nowhere. Here." He pointed to Wyoming on a map. "All around here, except for one place...Southern Wyoming."

"Wyoming?" asked Dean.

"Yeah," said Bobby. "That one area's totally clean—spotless. It's almost as if..."

"What?" asked Sam.

"The demons are surrounding it," said Bobby.

"But you don't know why?" asked Dean.

"No, and by this point my eyes are swimming," said Bobby. "Sam, would you take a look at it? Maybe you could catch something I couldn't."

"Yeah, sure," said Bobby.

"Come on, Dean," said Bobby. "I got some more books in the truck. Help me lug 'em in."

"Yeah," said Dean. He followed Bobby out to his truck, where they began pulling books out of the trunk. They heard a commotion in the junkyard. Bobby and Dean crawled to the side of a car, and grabbed the intruder. Once they had her by the shoulders, they recognized her as Ellen.

"Ellen?" said Dean. She nodded. Dean pulled her into a hug. "Ellen. Oh, gosh."

* * *

Ellen and Bobby sat at a table, pouring her a shot of liquid from a flask and pushing it over to her.

"Bobby, is this really necessary?" asked Ellen.

"Just a belt of holy water, shouldn't hurt," said Bobby.

Ellen lifted the holy water and swallowed it. "Whiskey now, if you don't mind."

"Ellen, what happened?" asked Dean. "How'd you get out?"

"I wasn't supposed to," said Ellen. "I was supposed to be in there with everybody else. But we ran out of pretzels, of all things. It was just dumb luck." She drank the whiskey Bobby poured for her and exhaled sharply. "Anyway, that's when Ash called. Panic in his voice." She sighed. "He told me to look in the safe. Then the call cut out. By the time I got back, the flames were sky-high. And everybody was dead. I couldn't have been gone more than fifteen minutes."

"Sorry, Ellen," said Sam.

Ellen began tearing up. "A lot of good people died in there. And _I_ got to live. Lucky me."

"Ellen, you mentioned a safe," said Bobby.

"A hidden safe we keep in the basement."

"Demons get what was in it?" asked Bobby.

"No," she said. She pulled out a map from her pocket, unfolding it and setting it down on the table. It had several black lines and X's on it.

"Wyoming," said Dean. "What does that mean?"

* * *

Bobby set a book on the table. "I don't believe it."

"What?" asked Sam. "You got something?"

"A lot more than that," said Bobby. "Each of these X's," he pointed to the marks on the map, "is an abandoned frontier church—all mid nineteenth century. And all of them built by Samuel Colt."

"Samuel Colt—the demon-killing, gun-making Samuel Colt?" asked Dean.

"Yep," said Bobby. "And there's more. He built private railway lines," he pointed to the black lines on the map, "connecting church to church. It just happens to lay out like this." He connected the points on the map until the shape of a star was made.

"Tell me that's not what I think it is," said Dean.

"It's a Devil's Trap," said Sam. "A 100-square mile Devil's Trap."

"That's brilliant," said Dean. "Iron lines demons can't cross."

"I've never heard of anything that massive," said Ellen.

"No one has," said Bobby.

"And after all these years none of the lines are broken? I mean, it still works?" asked Dean.

"Definitely," said Sam.

"How do _you_ know?" asked Dean.

"All those omens Bobby found. I mean the demons, they must be circling and they can't get in."

"Yeah, well...they're trying," said Bobby.

"Why? What's inside?" asked Ellen.

"That's what I've been looking for," said Dean. "And, uh, there's nothing except an old cowboy cemetery right in the middle."

"Well, what's so important about a cemetery or...what's Colt trying to protect?" asked Sam.

"Well, unless..." started Dean.

"Unless what?" asked Bobby.

"What if Colt wasn't trying to keep the demons out?" speculated Dean. "What if he was trying to keep something in?"

"Well that's a comforting thought," said Ellen.

"Yeah, you think?" said Dean.

"Could they do it, Bobby?" asked Sam. "Could they get inside?"

"This thing's so powerful, you'd practically need an A-bomb to destroy it," said Bobby. "No way a full-blood demon gets across."

"No," Sam paused. "But I know who could."

"Jake," said Dean. "Dammit."

"We gotta get there before he does," said Sam. He stood up, approaching Andy. "Hey, Andy, could you do me a favor?"

"Anything," said Andy.

"We need to go stop this demon," said Sam. "Could you…watch Johnnie for us?"

"Yeah, sure, Sam," said Andy. Sam handed the baby over to Andy. "And, Sam?" Sam looked up at Sam. "Kick his ass."

Sam smiled. "Will do."

* * *

They took their places around the graveyard, waiting for Jake. After a few minutes, they heard someone making their way through the cemetery. Jake approached a crypt.

"Howdy, Jake," said Sam. He, Bobby, Ellen and Dean came out, guns raised.

"Wait...you were dead," said Jake. "I killed you."

"Yeah?" said Sam. "Well next time, finish the job."

"I did!" yelled Jake.

"Think again," said Sam. "Andy tackled you and saved me. Nothing but a scratch. Next time, aim a little better."

"Okay, just take it real easy there, son," said Bobby.

"And if I don't?" said Jake.

"Wait and see," said Sam.

"What, you a tough guy all of a sudden?" asked Jake. "What are _you_ gonna do—kill me?"

"It's a thought," said Sam.

"You had your chance. You couldn't."

"I won't make that mistake twice."

Jake began to laugh.

"What are you smiling at, you little bitch?" asked Dean.

"Hey, lady, do me a favor," Jake told Ellen. "Put that gun to your head." Ellen pointed her gun at her temple. "See that Ava girl was right. Once you give in to it, there's all sorts of new Jedi mind tricks you can learn."

"Let her go," said Sam.

"Shoot him," said Ellen.

"You'll be mopping up skull before you get a shot off," said Jake. He paused. "Everybody, put your guns down. Except you, sweetheart." Sam, Dean and Bobby all dropped their guns. "Okay. Thank you."

Jake turned around and pulled the Colt out of his pocket. While he was inserting it into the crypt, Dean and Bobby grabbed Ellen before she could shoot herself just as Sam shot Jake four times in the back. Jake fell onto the ground, and Sam positioned himself in front of him.

Jake gasped. "Please...don't. Please."

Sam shot Jake three more times in the chest, blood spattering on his face. Bobby and Ellen passed Sam, staring at him in shock. Dean walked up as Sam wiped the blood off his face. They approached the crypt and watched as two separate engravings on the crypt spun in different directions and stopped.

"Oh, no," said Bobby.

"Bobby, what is it?" asked Ellen.

"It's hell," said Bobby. Dean pulled the Colt from the crypt. "Take cover—now!"

All four of them ran behind tombstones as the doors to the crypt burst open. A large black mass erupted from the other side and shot outward. The demons breached the Devil's Trap and escaped.

"What the hell just happened?!" asked Dean.

"That's a devil's gate," said Ellen. "A damn door to hell. Come on! We gotta shut that gate!"

Sam, Bobby and Ellen bolted for the crypt doors. Dean stood up and checked the Colt for bullets.

"If the demon gave this to Jake...then maybe..." said Dean.

Thunder crashed as the Yellow Eyed Demon appeared behind Dean. Dean turned to face him, aiming the Colt. Yellow-Eyes raised his hand, and the Colt soared out of Dean's hand and into his own.

"A boy shouldn't play with Daddy's guns," said Yellow-Eyes. He jerked his head, and Dean flew into a tombstone, hitting his head.

Sam turned to push the door closed with his back, and spotted Dean on the ground with Yellow-Eyes advancing on him. Yellow-Eyes looked at Sam and smiled wickedly.

"Dean!" Sam yelled. He let go of the gate door and ran to his brother. As he approached behind the demon, Yellow-Eyes threw his hand up. Sam went flying into a tree, pinned there.

"I'll get to you in a minute, champ," said Yellow-Eyes. "But I'm proud of you—knew you had it in you."

Dean tried to get up, but Yellow-Eyes raised his hand, paralyzing Dean against the tombstone.

"Sit a spell," said Yellow-Eyes. He squatted beside Dean. "So, Dean...I got to thank you. You see, having a brother like you kept Sammy alive all these years. I mean, if it wasn't for you, John probably would've gotten him killed in the hunting business, oh…ten years ago?" Yellow-Eyes laughed. "I'm glad. I liked him better than Jake anyhow. Tell me—have you ever heard the expression, 'A good thing was never meant to last'?"

"What?" asked Dean.

"I'm surprised at you," said Yellow-Eyes. "I mean...you saw what your brother just did to Jake, right? That was pretty cold, wasn't it?" He chuckled. "How certain are you that your demon-blooded, psychic brother is one-hundred-percent, pure Sam?" He laughed.

Dean looked past Yellow-Eyes' shoulder to look at Sam. Sam was struggling against his bonds, desperate to save his brother. Dean looked into his eyes, wondering.

"You of all people should know, that it's what's inside that counts," said Yellow-Eyes. He stood up. "Anyway...thanks a bunch. I knew I kept you alive for some reason. Until now, anyway."

As he cocked the Colt and aimed it at Dean, a transparent figure approached the demon. Dean's eyes widened as the figure transformed into his father. John grabbed the demon from behind, pinning him. The body fell to the ground as John wrestled with the black smoke. The demon pushed him to the ground and entered the body once more. When he stood up, Dean shot him with the Colt right in the heart. Yellow-Eyes stared at the bullet wound and looked up at Dean, shocked in his eyes. He convulsed as the wound sparked before he fell to the ground, dead. The force holding Sam to the tree dissipated. Bobby and Ellen closed the gate doors and turned to see John standing up.

John put his hand on Dean's shoulder, tears falling down his face, as Sam stood to the side and gave his father a nod. John looked at them.

"Take care of that boy," said John.

The boys nodded as John stepped back and disappeared in a white light. Sam and Dean walked over to the demon's body, astonished.

"Well, check _that_ off the to-do list," said Dean.

"You did it," said Sam.

"I didn't do it alone," said Dean.

"Do you think Dad really...do you think he really climbed outta hell?"

"The door was open. If anyone's stubborn enough to do it...it would be him."

"Where do you think he is now?"

"I don't know."

"I kind of can't believe it, Dean. I mean...our whole lives, everything...has been prepping for this, and now I..." Sam chuckled. "I kind of don't know what to say."

"I do." Dean knelt over the body, glaring at it. "That was for our mom...you son of a bitch."


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter Thirteen

Sam burst into Bobby's house, finding Andy with a sleeping John in his arms.

"How'd it go?" asked Sam.

"He was a perfect little angel," Andy answered as he handed the baby over. "What about you?"

"The demon's dead…finally," said Sam. "It's over. We're both free now."

"Good, 'cause I wanna forget this ever happened," said Andy.

Dean and Bobby came into the house, setting duffel bags down.

"Need a ride, Andy?" asked Dean.

"Nah, I think I'll manage," said Andy. "Thanks, guys." He left the house, headed back for home.

John stirred in Sam's arms, waking up. Sam looked down at him, staring. Now that this nightmare was over, this was the first chance Sam had had to really look at his newly adopted son. John gazed up at Sam with eyes the most shocking blue he had ever seen. He had small wisps of black hair on the top of his head. Sam's eyes traveled down to his mouth to find that Dean was right; John did have Stephanie's smile, even if he didn't have teeth yet.

John reached a tiny hand up, scrabbling at the face in front of him. When his palm connected with Sam's nose and his fingers curled around it, John gave a little giggle. Sam smiled as his son released his nose.

"Well, look who's the smitten daddy," said Dean as he walked up to Sam's shoulder, looking down at his nephew. "Hey, there, big guy. I'm your Uncle Dean."

"Now who's smitten?" teased Sam.

"Whatever, you're just jealous," said Dean.

"Don't pay any attention to him, Jonnie," Sam told the baby. He turned back to Dean. "We need to go to the store. He needs a lot of things." Sam felt the jacket wrapped around the baby. "Starting with diapers."

Dean stared at Sam. "He didn't." Sam nodded, hiding a smile. "Man, that was my favorite jacket."

Sam snickered, trying not to laugh. "Not having second thoughts, are you?"

Dean glared at his soiled jacket. "Maybe."

"Here, you go to the store," Sam told him, handing him the money in his pocket. "I'll clean him up. Call if you have questions."

"Dude, I think I can manage a little supply run on my own," said Dean as he left the house.

Sam looked down at the boy in his arms. "He'll call."

* * *

Dean stared at the aisles in front of him. "What baby needs this much crap?"

His gaze drifted from the car seats to the high chairs to the cribs, food, clothes, diapers, medicine, toys, furniture—

Dean pulled out his cell, dialing Sam's phone.

"You're completely lost, aren't you?" Sam answered.

"Shut up," said Dean. "What do I need? There's, like, a thousand different things here."

"Okay, we need a crib, car seat, food—that includes formula—probably a high chair, five pairs of clothes, several packs of diapers, a baby thermometer, a couple of toys, baby wipes, and baby shampoo."

"There's a difference?"

"Well, they make baby shampoo less abrasive, so if it gets in their eyes, it doesn't sting. This stuff here isn't going over so well."

"Okay, got it. See you in an hour."

He hung up and grabbed a cart, taking a deep breath as he set off down the first aisle.

* * *

Sam tossed the phone onto the counter as he laughed.

"Dean Winchester in a baby store," Sam chuckled. "Now, that's something I'd pay to see." John laughed and brought his arms down, splashing some water onto Sam's shirt. Sam smiled at him. "You think so, too, huh?"

Sam had filled the kitchen sink with water since John was a newborn, and he was holding John up with a hand on his back. Sam's shirt was sprinkled with water from John's antics. Sam cupped his hand in the water and poured it over John's head, rinsing the last of the bubbles from him. He made sure not to get the water on his face. For about ten more minutes, he let John play in the water. Then, Sam pulled a dry towel over and pulled John out of the sink. He placed him on the towel, using the corners to dry him off. John's semi-dry hair stuck up at an angle that reminded him of Dean. He laughed as he took the baby to the couch to cuddle him to sleep.

* * *

After half an hour, and twenty more phone calls to Sam ("What's the difference between newborn and infant? Isn't it the same?", "How much does John weigh? The diaper packages base the size on their weight. What's the point of that? Can there really be that much difference?", "What kind of thermometer? Does it matter?", "Do they make car seats for classic cars?"), Dean finally had his purchases at the counter. The woman checking him out gazed intently at the purchases, singling one out in particular.

"Newborn, right?" she asked.

"Yeah," said Dean.

"Then you need a smaller car seat," she advised. "This one is for children around three or four."

"Crap," said Dean, making to grab the box.

"Oh, don't bother with that," she told him. She pulled her microphone to her and turned it on, her voice echoing on the speakers. "Need a newborn car seat to register three."

Dean smiled at her. "Thanks."

"No problem," she said as she continued ringing up his purchases. "First time father?"

"Uncle, actually," Dean told her. "My brother's wife died giving birth. It's just me and him."

"When was he born?"

"Yesterday."

"What's his name?"

"John."

"That's a good name. I'm sorry about your sister-in-law."

"Thank you."

A guy walked up with the correct car seat, and the clerk rang it up. Dean paid with a credit card.

"Have a nice day," she told him.

* * *

Sam sat on the couch as Dean walked through the door. He took in Sam's half-soaked shirt.

"Have fun?" smirked Dean.

"Very funny," said Sam. "You got everything?"

"I think so," said Dean, depositing the bags inside the door. Dean took three more trips back and forth, bringing in the big boxes. "I guess I'm spending the day putting these together."

"The high chair and car seat can wait," said Sam, digging in one of the bags. "He really only needs the crib tonight."

"Okay," said Dean.

Sam pulled the bag of diapers out, breaking it open and pulling one out. He went over to the table, laying John out on his towel. He quickly put the diaper on him, finding it fairly easy. Bobby came into the room.

"Everything going okay?" asked Bobby.

"Yeah, Dean bought the stuff John needed," Sam answered.

Bobby stared at him. "Dean went to a baby store?"

Sam smiled. "Yep."

"I'd pay to see that."

He and Bobby laughed as Dean came into the room, frowning at them in confusion, clearly missing something, which only made them laugh harder.


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter Fourteen

"Daddy! Daddy!"

Sam spun to see John on the ground, holding his knee. Sam rushed over and picked his son up, cradling him to his chest.

"Shh, it's okay," Sam comforted him. "Daddy's here." John sniffled as tears fell down his cheeks. "Where does it hurt?"

John pointed to his knee, where blood was welling up from a skinned knee. Sam took John back into their house, setting him on the kitchen counter. He took a paper towel, wetted it, and gently wiped the blood away from John's skin. John winced as Sam cleaned it. Sam dried the wound and placed a Band-Aid on it, kissing it lightly.

"Better?" Sam asked him.

"No," John winced, still crying.

"Hm," Sam pretended to think. "Well, I can't have that."

Sam reached his hand out, tickling his son's tummy.

"Daddy, no!" John squealed as he squirmed under Sam's hands, laughing. "No!"

"Better?" asked Sam, still tickling.

"All better!" John squealed, giggling. Sam let up and pulled his son into his arms. "Love you, Daddy."

"I love you, too, Johnnie."

John was now three years old, and he was the spitting image of Stephanie. His black hair was grown out like Sam's, and it was thick. He, Sam and Dean now had their own small house in Lawrence, Kansas. They figured so much bad had happened there, only good could come from it now. John was really getting into books, but still loved to act up.

"Are we going to the park?" John asked.

"When Uncle Dean gets home," Sam told him.

"When is Uncle Dean coming home?"

"When he gets done with work."

"When does he get done with work?"

"Tell you what," said Sam, fishing John's favorite movie off the shelf. "When this is over, Uncle Dean will be home."

"Yay!" John squealed as Sam took him to the living room. He set John on the couch as he started the movie: _Cars_.

John got wrapped up in the movie, and Dean showed up with fifteen minutes left.

"Uncle Dean!" John exclaimed as he ran over to Dean's waiting arms.

"How's my big guy?" Dean said as he lifted John up into his arms. "Were you good for Daddy?"

"Maybe," said John slyly.

"Maybe?" said Dean. "Oh, I think we can do better than that."

Dean turned John over, hanging onto his legs as the blood rushed to John's head. Dean used his other hand to tickle John's feet.

"No!" laughed John. "Uncle Dean!"

"Not until I hear my answer," said Dean. He flipped John back up, holding him in his arms.

"I'm good! I'm good!" John exclaimed.

"That's more like it," said Dean. He set John down as he walked over to Sam. "Hey."

"Hey," Sam said, finishing packing John's snacks for the park. "Ready?"

"When you are," said Dean.

"Okay," said Sam. "Hey, Johnnie! Get your shoes on!"

"Yay!" John squealed as he put his shoes back on.

Sam picked John up as Dean grabbed John's backpack, making their way to the Impala.

* * *

John practically bounced in his seat as Sam undid his seatbelt in the car seat. When Sam set him on the ground, John took off for the swings.

"Stay where we can see you!" Sam called. He grabbed John's backpack as Dean locked the car.

Dean spotted a table with two women at it. "Dude, single mothers!"

"You really do have a one-track mind, don't you?" laughed Sam.

"What? Women love a man with a kid."

"He's my kid."

"So? Who's to say you can't get some action, too?"

"No, thanks, Dean," Sam told him.

"Suit yourself, princess," said Dean. "More for me." They approached the table.

"May we join you?" asked Sam.

"Sure," said the blonde. "I'm Elaine." She gestured to the brunette. "This is Michelle."

"Sam."

"Dean."

Sam sat down as Dean sat opposite him. "So, which one's yours?"

Elaine glanced back at the playground. "The one on the monkey bars." The little girl in question had brown hair and was about five."

Michelle looked over also. "Mine's in the sandbox." A little two-year-old boy sat in the sandbox, playing with trucks.

"I assume yours is the boy on the swings?" offered Elaine.

"Yeah," said Sam. "I'm his dad. Dean, here, is my brother."

Michelle frowned at John. "I don't really see you in him."

"He got his mother's looks," Sam explained. "She, uh…died when he was born."

"Oh," both women breathed at the same time, offering Sam sad looks.

"Same with me," said Michelle. "The father isn't in the picture. He left when he found out I was pregnant."

"Oh, that's too bad," said Dean, his eyes glinting mischievously. Sam rolled his eyes.

They got into a deep discussion about their children, sharing stories. Half an hour later, Sam turned toward the playground to call his son over for a snack. Sam froze, terrified at the sight in front of him.

"John?" Sam called. No response. "Johnnie?!"

Dean looked up at him. "What is it?"

"I can't find John," Sam told him, horrified.

"You what?" exclaimed Dean, jumping up.

"I can't see him," panicked Sam. "He's not here."

Dean put his arms on Sam's shoulders. "Hey, hey! We'll find him!"

"We'll help," said Elaine as the girls jumped up to help search.

Sam and the others looked for a half hour with no results. They sat back down at the table.

"What am I gonna do?" cried Sam. "I promised him, I promised Stephanie I'd protect him." His cell phone rang, and he answered it. "Hello?"

"Well, well, well, Sammy," said a taunting female voice. "We're in trouble now, aren't we?"

"Who is this?" asked Sam.

"Let's just say I'm a…mutual acquaintance."

"What do you want?"

"Well, I want a lot of things, Sam."

"I'm hanging up now."

"What an adorable little boy you have…"

Sam froze, his stomach catching in his throat. "What?"

"Oh, _now_ we want to talk. I'd be careful if I were you, Sammy, or Johnnie's gonna have to pay."

"What have you done with him?" Sam seethed, getting Dean's attention.

"Watch your temper, Sammy. You should think of your son."

There was a terrified cry on the other end. "I want my Daddy!"

Sam listened in horror, face shifting into a snarl. "You listen to me. You lay a finger on him, and it'll be the last thing you ever do, you bitch!"

"Temper, Sammy. I think you need a lesson for that little outburst."

Sam paled, jaw dropping. "No, no! Please! Don't hurt him!"

Sam heard a smack on the other line, and John began screaming.

"Johnnie!" Sam cried, tears falling down his face.

"Have we learned our lesson?" the woman asked.

"What do you want?"

"You. Be at the warehouse on Lexington and Corlie at midnight tonight…alone. You may just get your boy back."

"Don't hurt him."

"You'll just need a name to summon me."

"What name?"

Dean, Elaine and Michelle watched Sam as he hung up. Sam was seething along with Dean. Someone had stolen his nephew from him. Sam looked over at Dean, tears falling from his eyes.

"They've got him," Sam told him, trying and failing to reign his anger in. "They've got my son."

"Who was it?" asked Dean, eager for some payback.

"I don't know," Sam said. "She just gave me her name: Ruby."


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter Fifteen

Sam walked into the warehouse, watching the shadows for anything. When he got to the center of the room, he stopped.

"RUBY!" Sam called.

Out of the darkness came a young blonde woman. She glared at Sam, her eyes turning black.

"Hey, there, Sammy," said the demon.

"I take it you're Ruby," Sam said. "You're just as skanky as you sound."

"Ooh, nice one," said Ruby.

"Where's my son?" asked Sam.

"Not so fast," said Ruby. "I want that ornery big brother of yours out here first." Sam glared at her. "What, you think I'm that stupid?"

Dean stepped out of the shadows.

"Hey, Dean," said Ruby. "You know, I really was hoping you'd come. It makes this a whole lot more fun."

Ruby raised her hand, and Sam and Dean flew into the wall, pinned. Ruby reached behind a column and pulled John out. He was tied at the hands, and his mouth was duct-taped. Ruby flung him to the floor.

"Johnnie!" Sam yelled.

Tear-filled blue eyes looked up at him, widening when they spotted him. Johnnie jumped to his feet, but Ruby jumped forward, holding him to her. She ripped off the duct-tape.

"Daddy!" John screamed, crying.

"It's okay," Sam assured. "I'm here."

"You know, this kid is the reason hell's in such a foul mood," said Ruby.

"What are you talking about?" asked Dean.

Ruby slid a wicked-looking knife from her belt. "You know, it wasn't supposed to be this way. Sam wasn't supposed to get pregnant. He was supposed to die in Cold Oak. That's why Yellow-Eyes was excited to get Sam there. He knew that Sam wouldn't kill anyone, so he would die at another's hands. You see, he had a brother that loved him so much he would sell his soul to bring him back. Then we would have that righteous soul in hell that we needed. We could have started it all."

"Started what?" asked Sam.

"The apocalypse," said Ruby. "The whole psychic kids thing was a plan to free Lucifer."

"The devil?" said Dean. "He's real?"

"And trapped," Ruby went on. "But once we break sixty-six seals, he'll be free at last. Then guess who's coming to dinner."

"Oh, my God," said Sam.

"Guess again," said Ruby. "But the first seal has to be broken before all the others. I know, red tape—it'll make you nuts. And it's not that easy to break. 'And it is written that the first seal shall be broken when a righteous man sheds blood in hell. As he breaks, so shall it break.' But, thanks to this kid, Dean isn't going to hell. So, I guess the only way to get Dean to sell his soul is to kill his nephew."

As Ruby raised the knife to plunge it into John, Sam saw red. Unsure of how he did it, he broke free of Ruby's hold and rushed her. He tackled her away from his son and put his hand to her throat. As rage burned through him, Ruby screamed as she convulsed. She lit up from within, glowing as she screamed. Within a few seconds, her body collapsed to the floor, empty.

Sam got up off the floor, rushing to his son. Sam picked John up, untying his hands and holding him close. Dena came up to them, putting a hand on John's head.

"It's okay," Sam whispered into John's hair. "I've got you. No one's hurting you ever again. I'm here."

"What happened?" Dean asked, staring at Ruby's body.

"I don't know," said Sam. "I think I killed her."

"Killed her?" asked Dean.

Sam nodded. "I felt her die. I don't know how I…It was like that thing with Max. I got an adrenaline rush, and it just…came out of me."

"Well, thank God for that," said Dean.

They got into the Impala and headed back to the house. As Dean drove, Sam looked over at him.

"Hey, Dean," started Sam. "Is what Ruby said back there true? Would you have sold your soul for me if I died?"

Dean looked over at his brother, and back at the road. "Yes."

Sam didn't know whether to be grateful or disturbed to hear that.

* * *

"Daddy!"

Sam burst awake, tearing out of his room and down the hall. He rushed into his son's room to find John sitting against his headboard, blanket pulled up to his chin. Sam climbed onto the bed, pulling John into his arms. John clutched at Sam's shirt, shaking.

"Shh, shh," whispered Sam. "It's okay. It's just a thunderstorm. You're okay."

"It was with the lady," John told him.

Sam closed his eyes, realizing. Lightning wasn't uncommon around demons. John was scared of the lightning. Sam lifted John's chin to look into his eyes.

"She's not getting you ever again," Sam told him. "She's gone. I won't let anyone else take you away from me." John smiled as Sam hugged him. "Wanna sleep with me tonight?"

John nodded, and Sam picked him up, taking him back to his bedroom. Sam climbed in, laying John next to him and putting an arm around him. As John snuggled into the safety of Sam's chest, Sam drifted off to sleep.

* * *

Sam opened his eyes to a shaft of morning light. He closed his eyes against the brightness, reaching his arm out to the side…to feel empty sheets. Sam's eyes bolted open as he looked over at the empty bed. He jumped up, rushing into the hallway.

"JOHNNIE!" Sam yelled, tearing for his son's bedroom.

"We're down here, Sam!" Dean called from downstairs.

Sam came down the stairs to find his brother and his son at the table, eating breakfast.

"Hey," Dean said, apology on his face. "I went in to check on you two, and he woke up, so I brought him down here so you could sleep. Sorry."

"No, no, it's okay," said Sam. "It's just…after yesterday…"

"I know," said Dean. "Want some pancakes?"

"Sure," smiled Sam. He sat down with the two of them, enjoying their morning breakfast.


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter Sixteen

**Fifteen years later…**

"Sammy, behind you!"

Sam spun around as the spirit flung him into a tree in the graveyard. He toppled to the ground and looked up to find the spirit in front of him. A shotgun went off, and the spirit dissipated. John stood at the grave Dean was digging, shotgun up.

"You okay, Dad?" John called.

"I'm fine," Sam called back. "Keep digging, Dean!"

As Dean scooped the last of the dirt off the coffin, he brought the shovel down, breaking the lid. The wind picked up and Dean was flung out of the grave, pinned to the tree. Sam jumped up, but was pinned next to Dean. John picked up the tin of salt, pouring it on the bones. He poured gasoline into the coffin and lit a match, dropping it in. The grave went up in flames, and Sam and Dean were released.

"Nice work, Johnny," Dean said as he walked over.

"It's John," he replied. Sam and Dean looked at each other at that and laughed a little.

They had started hunting again when John was fifteen, training him as they hunted on and off for the past three years. John was getting remarkably good, just as good as Sam or Dean. John was finishing up high school and graduating in a few months. His first college choice was Stanford.

"Dean."

The three of them turned around to see a dark-haired man in a suit and trench coat standing behind them.

"Who are you?" asked Dean.

"Castiel," the man replied. "I'm an angel of the Lord."

Dean raised his shotgun, aiming it at Castiel. "Get the hell out of here. There's no such thing."

"This is your problem, Dean," said Castiel. "You have no faith."

Lightning flashed, and great, shadowy wings appeared on Castiel's back, stretching off into the distance. The light went out and the image disappeared.

"Some angel you are," said Dean. "You're in a monkey suit."

"My true form can be...overwhelming to humans, and so can my real voice."

"And what visage are you in now, huh? What, holy tax accountant?"

"This?" said Castiel, looking down at his suit and trench coat. "This is... a vessel."

"You're possessing some poor bastard?"

"He's a devout man, he actually prayed for this."

"Well, I'm not buying what you're selling, so who are you really?"

Castiel frowned. "I told you."

"Right. And why would an angel want to help me?"

"Good things do happen, Dean."

"Not in my experience."

"What's the matter? You don't think you deserve to be saved?"

"Why do you want to do it?"

"Because God commanded it. Because we have work for you."

"Dean, can I talk to you?" asked Sam. Dean followed him and John over to the tree where Castiel couldn't hear them. "What do you think?"

"I think he's lying," said Dean.

"Well, then tell me what else it could be," said Sam.

"Look, all I know is we could've used an angel a long time ago, so why haven't they helped us?" said Dean.

"Okay, look, Dean," started Sam. "Why do you think this Castiel would lie to you about it?"

"Maybe he's some kind of demon. Demons lie."

"Dean, Lilith is scared of that thing!"

"Don't you think that if angels were real, that some hunter somewhere would have seen one...at some point...ever?"

"Yeah. We just did, Dean."

"I'm trying to come up with a theory here. Okay? Work with me."

"Dean, we have a theory."

"Yeah, one with a little less fairy dust on it, please."

"Okay, look. I'm not saying we know for sure. I'm just saying that I think we—"

"Okay, okay. That's the point. We don't know for sure, so I'm not gonna believe that this thing is a freaking angel of the Lord because it says so!"

"You two want to keep arguing religion, or do you want to come take a look at this?" said John as he held a book from the Impala in his arms. Sam and Dean both walked over to where John was standing. "Bobby's got stacks of lore—Biblical, pre-Biblical. Some of it's in damn cuneiform. It all says an angel can do everything he's done so far."

"Dean, this is good news," said Sam.

"How?" asked Dean.

"Because for once, this isn't just another round of demon crap," said Sam. "I mean, maybe one of the good guys wants to help, you know?"

"Okay. Say it's true. Say there are angels. Then what? There's a God?" asked Dean.

"At this point, Vegas money's on yeah," said John.

"I don't know, guys," said Dean.

"Okay, look," said Sam. "I know you're not all choirboy about this stuff, but this is becoming less and less about faith, and more and more about proof."

"Proof?" said Dean.

"Yes," said Sam.

"Proof that there's a God out there that actually gives a crap about me personally?" said Dean. "I'm sorry, but I'm not buying it."

"Why not?" asked Sam.

"Because why me? If there is a God out there, why would He give a crap about me?"

"Dean—"

"I mean, I've saved some people, okay? I figured that made up for the stealing but why do I deserve to get saved? I'm just a regular guy."

"Apparently, you're a regular guy that's important to the man upstairs."

"Well, that creeps me out. I mean, I don't like getting singled out at birthday parties...much less by...God."

"Okay, well, too bad, Dean, because I think He wants you to strap on your party hat."

"Alright, enough of this crap," said Dean, heading back over to Castiel. The others followed him. "I thought angels were supposed to be guardians. Fluffy wings, halos—You know, Michael Landon."

"Read the Bible," said Castiel. "Angels are warriors of God. I'm a soldier."

"Yeah?" said Dean. "Then, why haven't you helped us the past three decades?"

"I'm not here to perch on your shoulder," said Castiel. "We had larger concerns."

"Concerns?" said Dean. "There were people getting torn to shreds down here! And, by the way, while all this is going on, where the hell is your boss, huh, if there is a God?"

"There's a God," said Castiel.

"I'm not convinced. 'Cause if there's a God, what the hell is He waiting for, huh? Genocide? Monsters roaming the earth? The freaking apocalypse? At what point does He lift a damn finger and help the poor bastards that are stuck down here?"

"The Lord works—"

"If you say 'mysterious ways,' so help me, I will kick your ass. So…why are you here?"

"Big things afoot."

"Do I want to know what kind of things?"

"I sincerely doubt it, but you need to know. We are concerned about the sixty-six seals."

"Okay. Wait a minute…didn't Ruby mention something about the seals and Lucifer?"

"Those seals are being broken by a demon named Lillith."

"Why break the seals again?"

"You think of the seals as locks on a door."

"Okay. Last one opens and..."

"Lucifer walks free."

"This is unbelievable," said Dean.

"Why do you think we're here walking among you now for the first time in 2,000 years?"

"To stop Lucifer."

"That's why we've arrived."

"Well...bang-up job so far."

"We tried. And there are other battles, other seals. Some we'll win, some we'll lose. Our numbers are not unlimited. Six of my brothers died in the field this week. You think the armies of heaven should just follow you around? There's a bigger picture here. You should show me some respect."

"Alright, alright," said Sam. "What do you need us to do?"

"The final seal is Lillith's death, but not until all the seals have fallen. We need you to kill Lillith."

"Kill her with what?" asked Dean. "We're kinda out of magic bullets."

Castiel pulled a horrifyingly familiar knife from inside his coat, holding it out to Dean.

"Is that what I think it is?" asked Sam.

"What?" asked Dean as he took the knife.

"Ruby's knife," Sam told him.

Dean looked down at the knife in his hand. "It is."

"Who's Ruby?" asked John. Sam and Dean looked over at him.

"Uh, the demon that kidnapped you," Sam told him. John nodded as Sam turned back to Castiel.

"This knife can kill demons," said Castiel. "Use it wisely."


	17. Chapter 17

Chapter Seventeen

**Sorry it's so short, but this is the end.**

"Okay, question," said Dean as they got back to the motel. "Ruby had mentioned that the first seal would be broken by me if I had sold my soul to save Sam and gone to hell. So…how did they break all these seals if I never broke the first?"

"The seal was never meant to be broken by one person," Castiel explained. "Any righteous soul in hell would've been enough."

"Okay," said Sam. "Where do we find Lillith?"

"I will take you to her," said Castiel, reaching out to touch their foreheads.

"Whoa, whoa," said Dean, backing away. "What are you doing?"

"Taking you to Lillith," said Castiel.

"How?" asked Dean.

"Teleportation," explained Castiel. He reached out and they found themselves in a motel room, staring at a dead body. They looked up at Castiel.

"Was that Lillith?" asked John.

"No," said Castiel. "That is."

Sam and Dean spun around to find a blonde woman standing at the door. Dean charged at her, but she waved him aside, flinging him into the motel wall. She waved her hand again, and John went flying into another wall. Sam and Castiel were pinned to another wall.

Castiel looked over at Sam. "You know what to do."

Sam frowned. "What?"

"You've tapped into it before fifteen years ago when you killed Ruby," said Castiel. "Do it now. Do it to save the world."

"I don't know how," said Sam, watching as Lillith approached Dean.

Castiel followed his gaze, realizing what Sam's trigger was. "If you don't, Lillith will kill your brother and your son. Do it for them…Save them."

Sam watched in horror as Lillith raised her hand towards Dean. Sam fought his way out of Lillith's hold and raised his hand. Lillith was flung into the motel door, frozen in Sam's telekinetic grip.

"Hurry!" Sam yelled to Dean.

Dean surged forward, plunging the knife into Lillith's heart. She gasped as she sparked from the wound. Her eyes turned white as she slumped to the floor, dead. Dean pulled the knife out of Lillith's gut, standing up.

Dean looked at Sam. "How'd you do that?"

"Not really sure," said Sam. "But it worked." He looked at Castiel. "Did it?"

"Yes," said Castiel. "You saved the seals. Now, the final seal can never be broken. And Lucifer can never rise." With that, he disappeared.

"Well, I say that deserves a celebration," said Dean as they left the motel room for a bar.


	18. Chapter 18

**WARNING!**

**Public service announcement!**

I am not quitting fanfiction! I am currently working on printing and binding my current stories for my storage. When I am finished with that, I will work on my stories again.

I will first do a songfic (my first one). Then a season three story. Then a mermaid story. Then Don't You Cry No More 3. Then The Winchester That Wasn't 2. I'm excited about all of them!

I'll see you guys in a few weeks!


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